


How the West was Won- Homeland Style

by Cheesecake_97



Category: Homeland
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-06-10 02:50:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 36,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6936118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheesecake_97/pseuds/Cheesecake_97
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Carrie and Quinn had met in the Old West?</p><p>Come back to 1858, to watch our hero's ride horses, carry rifles and try to outsmart some familiar outlaws during the Pikes Peak Gold Rush.  Some cannon elements and re-imagined plot lines. </p><p>*Chapter 17- the final chapter "In the end, it begins again". published Oct 3rd*<br/>The conclusion of this epic story.  Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A great imagination

One day this beautiful place will be filled with shopping malls, a US Air Force Academy, and a nationally recognized natural landmark. Thousand of tourists will in the future, come to visit Garden of Gods, or watch the Pikes Peak International Hill climb. But long before all that this was a wild, free, gritty country with a little town in the middle of the great big Colorado Territory. 

April 27,1858

It's springtime in the Rocky Mountains, and all the snow had finally melted. Her golden blonde braids ran down her back, riding Western style on her light brown pony, she had her sun bonnet pushed back. She loved riding past the breathtaking views and unique rock formations in this part of the West. Warm afternoons this time of year were extra special because Maggie was often at home studying for her school teacher examination, and Mira the hired girl, was busy tending to the baking and Carrie was free to ride her pinto pony and go exploring. Saul gave her lots of freedom, mostly because she was the son he never had. Spring term at school was over and Carrie was glad to be away from all the other 15 year old girls. At school all they ever talked about was getting hoop skirts. Carrie couldn't think of anything more horrible than wearing hoops. She hated the idea that next year, when she was 16, she would have to put her hair up and wear longer dresses. Hoops were so impractical for riding horses, running, sitting or anything fun. Instead Carrie longed to be outside, exploring, shadowing Saul on patrol, hearing rumors about the railroad and dreaming about being a sheriff herself one day.

She rode through town, where all the wooden store fronts were turning grey, bleached by the sun. Spring flowers were coming up everywhere. She rode past the General Store, where she could see Mr. Virgil bartering with customers for dry goods, or spring seeds. She quickly rode past the Saloon, Carrie didn't want to run into the bartender Redmond or Miss Martha, neither one was particularly nice to Carrie. Farther down the main street, Carrie waved to Saul who was talking to someone just outside his sheriff's office. Dr. Maxwell didn't appear to be in his little clinic next door, but at the end of the dusty street, she saw that Preacher Danny Galvez was re-painting the front steps of the simple church in the center of town. He waved and tipped his hat to Carrie as she rode by.

She often dreamed of being a sheriff somewhere out here and having a whole town or county to patrol. She thought about having her own posse, handpicking the best men for her team. They would all have the fastest horses and best rifles! In her imagination her posse consisted of Virgil, Dr. Max and Preacher Danny. Seemed like an odd bunch for sure, but Virgil let her order anything she wanted out of the Montgomery Ward catalog, on Saul's credit of course. She was saving up for Keplerian optics or binoculars for her scouting missions. Virgil's brother Dr. Max never said much, but he was always kind to all the kids and pretty respected for this work around town. He also had a great big horse, named Van that Carrie liked a whole lot too. Preacher Galvez and his wife, didn't have any children, but something in his kind chocolate brown eyes told Carrie that he wished they did. Preacher Galvez wasn't a "hell and brimstone" kind of preacher and Carrie liked that about him. He also had the most books in town, and often let her borrow some. Yeah, Danny could be part of her posse too. In her daydreams she called them the Colorado Interior Army or the CIA.

She rode through the woods east of town, down to the creek to let her pony get a drink. The woods were green with new leaves and the grass under foot was dense. She was deep in her imagination (dreaming of single handedly running down train tracks, with a pistol in her hand, stopping train robbers) when her head struck an overheard tree branch and she tumbled off her horse and into the creek.

Monument Creek was swollen this time of year and icy cold, from snow run off. The frigid, rushing waters overwhelmed Carrie instantly. She tired to swim to the surface, but her left shoulder seemed pinned down by some brush or a fallen log in the water. Carrie was flaying, panic filled her mind, her lungs screamed out for air. Suddenly a strong arm pulled on her shoulder, yanking her free, and tearing her dress. Two hands pushed her to the surface and she came up sputtering.

She swam to the creeks edge and coughed up water ferociously. A young man came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her small waist and pulled up on the grassy bank. He slapped her back, until her lungs where cleared. After she caught her breath, she realized she was laying on her back staring up into a face she did not recognize. He was a young man she had never seen before. He looked only a few years older than her, with dark brown hair, steel blue eyes and sharp cheek bones. She suddenly flushed red, when she realized he was shirtless and half of her own bodice was ripped off.

*You OK?

*Yeah.

Carrie tried to sit up, but screamed instead as she realized she couldn't move her left arm. He examined her closer.

*Hold still, looks like you dislocated your shoulder.

While she screamed, he took her hand, and raised her left arm.

*Take a deep breath.

She obeyed, and in one motion he held her upper arm in place and then rotated her forearm towards her right shoulder and she felt her shoulder pop back into place. It instantly felt better.

*Here hold still, don't move.

He walked over to a pile of clothes and his hat on the creek bank (where she assumed he must have stripped before jumping in) and came back with a navy blue shirt. In a moment he torn it down the back and wrapped it around Carrie's right arm, making a sling for her shoulder. 

*Now you can't use this arm for a few weeks. Keep this sling on, but your shoulder will be brand f*ing new.

She giggled at his cursing. He helped her to sit up.

*Sorry Ma'am.

He reached out his hand to shake hers.

*Peter Quinn.

*Caroline Mathison.

*It's a pleasure Miss Mathison.

*Please call me, Carrie.

*Then call me Quinn. 

He touched her cold hand and blurted out

* Oh, you're shivering, you'll freeze in those wet clothes!

He jumped up and walked over to his light brown horse and pulled something from a saddle bag. He offered her a worn white shirt, and a jacket.

*Thanks.

She took it, but then blushed awkwardly. She wasn't sure how to get her wet dress off with her left arm immobilized in the sling.

*Oh, right... here... aahh.. let me help you.

As he helped her to her feet, he was turning red now too. Thank goodness she had a full petticoat underneath. He moved closer and gingerly unbuttoned her bodice down the front and pull off the light green calico dress, exposing her white bleached muslin chemise. It had short selves and went down past her knees. The all white chemise was very wet, and clung to her every curve. He tried not to stare too terribly. He helped her pull on his large shirt and woolen jacket. They were both quite flushed when he finally moved away. They both relaxed a bit, as his hung up her green dress to dry on a nearby cottonwood tree branch.

*I think we need a fire to warm you up and dry your clothes.

*What about you?

*I'm fine.

He didn't want to confess that he didn't own another shirt to put on. Carrie sat rather stunned by the whole ordeal, while Quinn gathered underbrush together and with two stick quickly started a small fire.  
He smiled at her across the firelight.

*At least your horse didn't run away.

Oh yeah, Carrie had completely forgotten. She turned around and saw her brown pinto tied up to a nearby tree. Had he done that? Carrie tried not to stare too much at his shirtless chest, toned, lean, with deep tan lines where his shirt should be. Carrie had ever been alone with a boy before, let alone a half naked one that had essentially just undressed her. Carrie wondered if all boys looked so pristine under their clothes. 

*My mustang is named Ford. Best horse I've ever had.  
Quinn said beaming.

*This is Langley, my pinto.  
Carrie smiled back pointing to her pony.

Something in the way he so intently looked at her, made her feel like butterflies were in her stomach. No boy in town ever looked at her like that.

* You are pretty tough for a... girl.

* My dad is the sheriff here in Colorado City. You here for the gold?

* Nah. Just passing through.

He walked back to his horse and wordless retrieved a kettle and small pouch of coffee. He busied himself by the fire again.

*Well, they are calling it the Pikes Peak Gold Rush, basically means every deadbeat farmer and drunk is moving here to get rich quick. The jail has never been so full.

*So you like all the action?

*Hell yeah.  
She blushed.

*Want some coffee to warm you up?

*Sure.

* Well, you don't seem like a pioneer girl content to sew on a nine patch quilt and churn butter.  
She scoffed at the idea, how did he already know that? He handed her a tin cup with the steaming coffee.

*Sorry it's not in a real tea cup.  
She shrugged it off. He took off his soaking boots and socks and place them by the fire to dry too.

*I couldn't just keep house, but I would equally hate being a school teacher, yet what else is there?

* A bar maid.  
He said with a twinkle in his eye. Carrie turned white at the very idea.

* I would never work for Miss Martha.  
She slipped the coffee and realized he didn't have a cup.

*Aren't you going to have some?  
She studied his face and realized he didn't have another tin cup.  
*Here Quinn, we can share.

She passed over the cup and they both sat quietly looking into the fire.

* Where are you from?

* Philadelphia.

* What are you doing here?

*Same has you, watering my horse.

There was a teasing look in his eye. She played along

*So you always go swimming this early in the spring?

*Only when young ladies are drowning.

* Well I certainly didn't need saving.

*Of course not. At least you weren't in hoops.

* I would rather die than wear those things.  
Carrie blurted out, without thinking. 

They were both smiling now. 

The moment was suddenly broken when Quinn grabbed his pistol, jumped in front of Carrie, stood her up and with his back, pressed her up against a birch tree. Her face was peering out behind his shoulder to find out what the hell was happening. His eyes and gun filled hands were focused on a pokeberry bush in front of them.

*Sh* Carrie, hold still and whatever happens keep quiet.


	2. Up against a tree

April 27,1858

While his back pinned her up against the tree, he raised his pistol and faced a pokeberry bush to their left and said something in a language Carrie had never heard before. To her amazement, a tall, dark, beautiful Indian stepped out from behind a large bush not 20 yards from their camp fire. The Indian wore only a loin cloth and an elaborate crown of feathers on his head. On his feet he wore moccasins decorate with tiny colorful beads. Quinn and he talked back and forth, motioning to the horses and finally to Carrie. Quinn no doubt felt her trembling behind him, but he continued the conversation calmly and assertively. Quinn finally moved away from her and the two men walked towards a giant oak tree. The Indian brought out a large knife from who knows where and started carving something into the tree. Quinn motioned some kind of farewell to the tall Indian and said "maruawe", and the tall man moved off as silently as he came.

After a moment Carrie exhaled loudly,

*What the hell was that Quinn? What did he say?

*Said he heard you screaming like hell and came to check it out.

*Did you tell him I was OK?

*Yeah, I told him my little sister can't swim real well.

*Really?

*What did you want me to say?

Carrie was speechless. She had never seen so close to an Indian before.

*What did he carve in the oak tree?

*Look.

Quinn motioned her over.

*It's a map, with the Rock Garden, Pikes Peak, and the nearby Indian villages, along with the best trails around here. I was asking for directions.

Carrie fingered the symbols with awe.

*Where are we on the map?

Quinn got out his knife and carefully carved a "CM" and a "PQ" on the lowered left corner.

*We are right here.

*How did you learn to speak....

*Ute? No, I was speaking Comache. Chief Khan is the head the Ute tribe, but I muddled through with Comache. Don't you know him?

*No. I've heard about him. I've never seen him before, but we've only been here less than a year.

*Well, you better get to know him, he's very powerful around these parts.

*Do you know any other Indian languages?

*No, just Spanish and a little French.

Wow, Carrie was definitely impressed.

*How did you learn it?

Quinn was silent for moment. Carrie read something like grief pass over his face. He bit his lower lip, searching for the right words.

*The Comache helped me, when I needed it.

In the silence Carrie instinctively wanted to comfort him. She some how understood the unspoken words hanging out there.

* Yeah, well Saul isn't really my dad. He took us in when Mama and Papa got smallpox in Minnesota.

Quinn just nodded. They were quite a moment.

* I still miss them .... and Minnesota. I was only a baby when we traveled from Sweden, so Minnesota was my whole life and. ...

A loud rustling nearby interrupted Carrie, and Quinns' pistol was out in a flash. A single shot rang out and a squirrel dropped 100 yards away.

*Sh*t Quinn, that was a lucky shot.

*Not luck, skill.

Carrie scoffed. Quinn read it as a challenge and he smirked in response. He confidently strolled to his saddle and pulled out a long rifle. Carrie raised an eyebrow. He set up against a boulder, at the edge of the creek, aiming down stream. In a moment a loud shot rang out. The rifle kicked back against his shoulder and a blue jay 200 yards away fell to the ground.

*Holy F*, you're a good shot.

*Best shot in the territory.

He flashed her a proud smile and as he packed his gun back into his saddlebag.

*Anything else I should know?

* Well, I'm pretty likable and reliable, I am extremely reliable.

*Sounds like a matter of opinion.

He smugly knew he just won. She was impressed, even if she didn't come out and say it. He moved to the creek to wash out the coffee pot and cup.

* So where are you headed next Quinn?

* Missouri, to join the Pony Express. From there they will station me somewhere along the route to run mail between stations.

* That's pretty dangerous, don't they want, you know, orphans?

* Like that, we're more disposable.

It only confirmed her earlier suspicions. He quietly sat down again by the tiny campfire.

* Well you'd get to see a lot of action out there.

* Yeah, but one day I want to go all the way out west and see the Pacific Ocean.

Carrie's eyes shone. Seeing the ocean was a long held secret dream of hers.

*I would love to see that too.

The both stared into the fire wondering what an ocean looked like. Carrie broke the silence,

* Well it's getting late, I better get home before the sun sets and Saul sees my dress.

*Yeah.

Silently he helped her up and they walked awkwardly over her to green dress hanging up. They both knew what was coming next.. Carrie's shucked off the jacket and did her best to pull off his white button down shirt. Nervously he pulled her torn calico over her head, while Carrie winced as he pulled it over her shoulder. With his trembling fingers he gently buttoned up her bodice in the front. They both weren't quite breathing, being so close together. Quinn stepped away, and Carrie handed him his clothes. He pulled on his white shirt and gray jacket. He decided he liked it better on her. He stamped out the fire and looked towards her pony.

*Well, let me help you on Langley.

*I got it.

*No you don't.

He boasted her up on her saddle and handed her the reins.

*Thank you.

Was all she manged to say.

*Sure, take care of yourself Carrie.

As she turned to ride home, she looked back. He was on his horse and he caught her eye. He smiled, tipped his hat to her and rode off.

Carrie didn't know then, but he was right, her shoulder would be good as new, but her heart would never quite be the same.

As she rode home through the sunset, she pondered to herself, "Maybe, Quinn could be apart of my posse too. He might need to shoot a few things for me. " It was fun to dream about, but really Carrie no idea what was to come.


	3. Are you always this exhausting?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four years later, someone comes back to town.

June 10, 1862

The heat from the sun was beating down on him, for his high rock ledge over looking the town. So many nights he wondered what it would be like to be back, this was not what he had envisioned. He heard a women scream and the hair stood up on the back of his neck. Quinn looked down the barrel of his long rifle. In the middle of town was a beautiful young Ute Indian girl who was being whipped by a man with striking red hair. Quinn precisely pulled the trigger from his sniper nest, and the bullet pierced Brody's right hand. Brody screamed in surprise and pain. The whipping ended immediately. Seeing that his work was done, he started packing up his gear. Quinn's head was down when a man attacked him from behind. He knocked him down and they wrestled on the ground. Quinn moved to choke him out, til Quinn noticed the man's navy blue shirt and instantly recognized it as his own. Quinn stopped, pulled her hat off and her blonde braids came tumbling down.

*Motherf*er

*What are you doing here?

*Why are you doing dressed like that?

*Undercover work for Saul.

*I could have shot you!

*Maybe you should have. What the f* are doing shooting Brody?

*I'm stopping a two faced traitor from whipping an innocent girl.

* That's Fara, and she's with me.

*What?

* Yeah, I took your advice and got to know Khan and the Ute people and I have been teaching Fara English.

*And you are OK with this?

*Hell no,

He read something in her face.

*Oh God, its because you're f*ing him aren't you?

*Who are you f*ing?

*A nurse in Denver, but I'm not that into her.

*Well I couldn't intervene because it would have blown my cover. Plus, I'm sure Brody wasn't going to kill her.

Quinn gave her a knowing look.

*Bullsh*

*Don't look at me like that, whatever happened between Brody and I it's in the past. Besides Saul thinks he's selling information.

* To who?

* Why should I trust you?

* Because I'm the guy running things.

* Says who?

* Says Dar, the head of Southern Extension of the Railroad and a chairman for Wells Fargo Bank.

Carrie only rolled her eyes in response.

*So don't question my objectivity, question your own. What I just did worked. I stopped him, didn't I?

* Is that why you are back, to work for Dar?

* Something like that.

Quinn paused and then earnestly said,  
* Carrie, you shouldn't trust Brody. He's likely playing you.

*Quinn you've been on this operation, for what like 3 hours and you suddenly have an opinion.

* You always this exhausting?

Quinn moved to pack up his gear back onto Ford.

*See you around Carrie.

*Wait, if you are with Dar and I need to contact you......

*I took a room at Parvez's boarding house.

*Why not take a room above the Saloon from Redmond? It's cheaper.

*You once said you didn't trust Redmond, and I don't either.

They smirked at each other. Quinn mounted up on Ford and turned back to her,

*Oh, and Carrie, I'm glad you are still putting good use to my lucky shirt.

He tipped his hat to her and rode off on his mustang.  
Carrie blushed pink thinking about the tiny stitches that ran up the back of the navy blue shirt and the way it felt when he first wrapped it around her arm. That was the past and the present had too much sh*t in it to get sentimental. She rode back to town wondering where that naive little girl went.

Later that afternoon Quinn went down to Monument River to clear his mind. As he bathed in the icy waters he tried to sort out all the emotions of seeing her again, in his shirt. He was confused as f*. She was as infuriating as ever. But why was he really back after 4 years? He got dressed and headed to town, it was time to get to work.

Back in the dusty little town, Dar had asked Quinn to meet up with Lockhart, the most powerful judge out here. He was told Lockhart could often be found in the back room of the Saloon playing poker and talking politics. Quinn confidently strolled up to the wooden boardwalk and entered the swinging doors of the Saloon.

Inside it looked like so many other simple Saloons, a big bar in the back and lots of tables for gambling. It was pretty quiet, and Quinn immediately spotted Redmond the middle-aged, plain looking bartender.

*I'm here to see Judge Lockhart. He's expecting me.

*He's back here.

Quinn followed him to the back room of Saloon, passing an older, but still regal looking, well dressed women he assumed was Miss Martha.  
Lockhart tipped his hat, as Quinn sat down at the poker table.

* Judge Lockhart it's an honor to meet you sir, Peter Quinn.

* Yes, thank you. Dar told me he sent you to clean up this Brody mess.

*Yes, I'm happy to be here.

*Well it appears Brody our once upstanding solider, is actually working for the famous bank robbers, the Nazir gang. Heard of them?

*Yes. Unfortunately.

*Then you saw today was a total clusterf*.

*Yes, sir.

* Well, thank God you were there Peter.

Lockhart looks disturbed and slapped Quinn on the back as an offer of thanks.

*We need someone with your experience to sort out this mess. I got Dar breathing down my back trying to get his railroad built for his bank. I have the Ute people losing land and rights as more gold miners flood our town. Of course, now that gold is here every stage coach robber and bank thief wants a piece of the action. Plus, we've had this f*ing civil war going on in the east. It's all just a big f*ing clusterf*.

Miss Martha appeared at the door. She glided over to Lockhart and whispered something about "Dr. Max" in his ear. He turned rather pale.

*I have to go Peter, but welcome to Colorado City.

After Lockhart rushed away, Redmond turned to Quinn,

*Good job Peter, Lockhart will owe you forever.

*Why?

*Because of your sharpshooting today, you just saved his daughter.

Shock covered his face.

*F* me.

*Well, everyone has old secrets and childhood sweethearts.

*You mean Fara is Lockharts.....?

*Yup, and you're pretty good shot.

*How did you know?

*I'm the salon owner, I know sh*.

On the other side of the wall listening in, Carrie tipped her head back, and exhaled. Sh* even she didn't know that about Fara. Life was about to get very complicated.


	4. Through the looking glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some secrets are revealed by old friends.

June 11, 1862

On the homestead east of town, Saul had finally finished building their clapboard two story farmhouse. He was so proud of the fact, that it had real glass windows. The barn faced west along with the chicken coop and a small vegetable garden. Saul had taken Lockhart's advice when they first moved to town and invested in mineral rights claims around Colorado City. Now several years later the nickel and copper mine revenue was paying out enough to complete the house and extend the barn. Of course Saul was never going to leave law enforcement, but it did mean they could afford to buy pretty white sugar at Virgil's general store and Maggie got a real machine lace wedding dress shipped in from the east. Maggie had married a few years ago and moved to Denver. Saul had kept Mira on because you know, Carrie wasn't exactly known for being skilled at keeping house. Breakfast was simple and uncluttered. Carrie was pouring the coffee and serving hot buckwheat pancakes, when Saul gruffly brought up the obvious...

* I hear it got ugly with Quinn yesterday.

*Don't start, he was the one putting a bullet through Brody's hand.

*Carrie try and make this work, we need him. From what I hear, he does good work.

*Yeah, well we'll see about that.

* Maybe we should trust him because he did shoot Brody's hand.

* What is that suppose to mean?

* I think it's impossible for you to be objective under the circumstances.

* Circumstances of what?

*Of your adolescent crush on Brody.

*Well that's long over, believe me, my eyes have been opened after what he did to Fara.

*All the same, I want you to stay the f* away from him Carrie.....

* I know, I know.

Saul gruffly bit into a hearty pancake topped with maple syrup and melted butter. Carrie retrieved the milk pans and strained the morning milk. She turned back to Saul eating his second helping,

*But why Fara, Saul?

*To show dominance over the Ute people?

*Or maybe to show the Nazir Gang, that he was still faithful to them, by whipping Lockhart's daughter.

*What the f* Carrie?

*Redmond and Quinn seem to think so.

Saul was genuinely flabbergasted, obviously this was news to him too.

*Think about it Saul, why would anyone as powerful as Judge Lockhart be hanging around this rough, one horse town?

Saul had no answer and only shrugged. He picked up his tin coffee cup and asked,

*What about Maria?

Maria was Lockhart's beautiful, but rarely seen wife. What Carrie and Saul didn't know was that after the scandal of Lockharts teenage indiscretion (with the gorgeous Ute maiden Tasneem), Lockhart's high society parents sent him abroad. In an effort to sort himself out and he came home with in Italian wife from Florence. She was rarely seen out in polite society, but she was an excellent cook.

*I don't know if Maria knows. Lockhart has been pretty much camped out in Max's clinic with Fara. Max is covering for Lockhart, saying he has heart issues, so folks don't get suspicious. He is pretty heartbroken over it.

*Lockhart or Max?

*Both. It's f*ed up. I don't know Saul, whatever is coming, we need to get to the bottom of this before Nazir's Gang comes calling.....maybe we should have a "dinner party".

*Fine, as long as you don't cook.

There was a laugh in his voice. Carrie could do a lot of amazing things, but her cooking repertoire, was about three dishes.

That night, there is a knock at the door. Carrie opened the back kitchen door to find Lockhart looking grief stricken and dejected. He handed Carrie a ceramic serving dish filled with something Carrie has never seen before.

*My wife made a lasagna, if anyone wants to try it.

The lasagna was spectacular. Dar brought doughnuts, since he couldn't get a good croissant for a thousand miles. Carrie had made sourdough biscuits and long into the night the four discussed possible threats from Nazir. Let's be real, in this story you don't really want to hear about the Union Pacific Railroad plans, or internal Wells Fargo banking issues or stage coach routes or the political dynamics of the Ute tribe!? No. I didn't think so. So let's just skip to the good parts.

At church on Sunday, Quinn sat in a back pew studying the crowd, trying to figure out each character in this play. He heard from Dr. Max that Fara's back was on the mend and she didn't appear to have an infection thankfully. In his brief conversation with Max, he got the feeling that the quiet doctor was somewhat smitten by the innocent Ute girl. Quinn guessed that Max was finding every excuse to prolong her recover in his clinic.

As his eyes searched the crowd, a slight smile creep onto his face, as he noticed how much Carrie had grown up. She really was a young woman now, filled out and glowing. Her hair was pinned up in a pretty bun, and she was wearing her best poke bonnet. He was happy to notice that she still was refusing to wear hoops, under her crimson Sunday best dress, with a brown velvet flounce . He smiled to himself, some things never change. Her hair turned a beautiful golden color as the sunlight touched it from the glass church windows. Preacher Galvez preached on forgiveness as Quinn touched his vest pocket, just to make sure it was still there. Another small smiled crossed his face.

As the town folks and a few gold miners left the church, Quinn noticed Redmond slip a piece of paper to Saul. Sensing something was up, Quinn decided it was time to make a formal visit to Saul's homestead and start charming the town sheriff. He rode up on his mustang, still in his Sunday best hat and jacket and confidently knocked on the front door.

Carrie opened the door, bewildered to have callers so soon after church. Her hair was already down and her work apron was on over her dress. Surprise covered her face as she stood in the doorway.

*Why are you here?

*I'd like to talk your father.

*You can talk to me, if you....

Carrie gave him an ice cold glare. Saul appeared behind her.

*Hello young man. Won't you come in. Dar didn't tell us you were coming.

*Thank you sir.

Quinn took off his hat, smiled, and started to lay the charm on thick. Carrie wanted to slap his smug face. They walked through to the kitchen in the back. Dar was already sitting at the table drinking tea.

*Peter.

*Dar.

*Have some tea, Dar was just sitting down with us...

*Oh, no thank you sir. I just wanted to introduce myself and let you know that I'm happy to help in whatever way I can to bring justice to Brody and the Nazir Gang.

*Thank you.

*Peter Quinn.

He firmly shook Saul's hand, and flashed a warm smile.

*Peter, this is my daughter Carrie.

*Hello Ma'am.

Everyone pretended that they didn't already know about the fireworks from a few days ago. Of course Carrie and Quinn keep their very old swimming story to themselves. Quinn confidently pressed on,

*I just came over Sheriff, because I have a lot of language experience and I thought I might be able to help you decode the message you received today.

Saul was a little taken aback.

*I'm not following you.

*Redmond gave you note today, and I'm pretty sure you won't be able to read it without my help. My guess is it "fell"out of Brody's pocket and you ended up with it.

Sh* he was cocky thought Carrie.

*Well, Redmond has been quite helpful as of late. OK Quinn, if you are so smart, here it is, give it a try.

With large eyes, Carrie watched Saul pulled out a small piece of paper from his pocket. It read:  
"sitarg ynop le ejed on"

Carrie cut in..

*I can do this Saul.. we don't need him here.

* I want Peter to take a crack at this first.  
interrupted Dar.

* I can turn this around.

Carrie pleaded, Saul pulled her to the side,

*Maybe I don't want to watch you turn it around Carrie. Just be glad you are still here.

*I should be the one cracking this thing Saul. I know I can do it.

Saul just shook his head, as Quinn got out a pen and paper and began working on several ciphers. Of course, Carrie being Carrie, couldn't let it go. Quinn was half way through a mono alphabetic cipher, when Carrie crowded in and examined the handwriting..

*Look Quinn, the person who wrote it was left handed, look at the smudges.

*Obviously.

*Well who in town is left handed?

*We don't even know if the person writing this was from here.

Carrie felt shot down and looked at Quinn with an exasperated expression.

*Sorry Carrie, life is full of disappointments.

*Yeah, smart ass, but this is definitely written by a women and one left handed. There is only person I can think of that would fit that bill.

Saul turned as white as a sheet. Dar snarled,

*Who is it?

*Miss Allison, in the Saloon.

Carrie stated with confidence. She turned to Saul and careful said,

*Do we have any other samples of her handwriting?

It was hard to call Saul out on his affair with Allison in front of Dar and Quinn, but they don't have much time. Dar only shook his head in disgust, while Quinn's mouth tightened at the idea of another potential red headed traitors in town, sleeping with someone in this house.

*Maybe.

Was all Saul could mange as he headed upstairs.

Carrie kept looking at the paper, feeling like the answer was so obvious, but she just wouldn't quite put the pieces together. Suddenly, she jumped up, grabbed the paper and took it to the looking glass over the wash basin. She held up the paper to the mirror and in the reflection she found what she was looking for. Her face lit up.

*Quinn, come quick.

*Holy Sh* Carrie

*What does it say Quinn?

Reading the words in the reflection, he said,

* "No deje el pony gratis", it's Spanish for "Don't let the pony run free"

*What do you think that means?

*I don't know.. yet.

Saul walked downstairs, his was head down, Carrie knew what was coming next. She only had to look at the first few lines of the love letter to realize, the handwriting was a perfect match. The air felt to have left the room. Carrie filled the void with..

*Well, we know who wrote it, but why?

*No, time for that now Carrie, we need to get this back to Brody's room, before he realizes it's gone.

Carrie wrote down a copy of the message and offered to ride it back into town and sneak back into Brody's room. Saul disagreed and handed it over to Quinn, who mounted up and was gone in a flash. Carrie only saw red, as Saul obviously was trusting Quinn on this more than her. She pleaded with him, that she knew security and knew how to get the job done.

*How can you trust Quinn over me? I should be the one doing the leg work on this. I should be the one following leads on this bank robbing gang. I should be the one riding all over the county on this operation.

*Carrie listen to me, Quinn has experience with Pony Express. He was there when Wells Fargo took over the route from Salt Lake City to San Francisco. He knows what he's doing, also knows what Nazir is capable of. There are rumors that the Overland Mail Stage Coach route is going to start running through Colorado City. If that happens, Quinn is going to be doing the security on it. You know every bank robber is going to want to try to ambush that thing. We have to be prepared for the next attack. I'm sorry, Quinn is better equipped for this.

*We wouldn't even have this lead if it weren't for me, solving that note.

*I know, but it was really both of you.

*I just hate when you cut me out.

*I'm not cutting you out.

*Well you make it sound like I can't f*ing ride a horse.

*I never said you couldn't ride, but Quinn was one of the Pony Express riders that delivered the message of Lincoln's election victory ....5 days over a thousand miles....

Saul was still babbling about Quinn's credentials, as Carrie left in a huff, slamming the back door and taking her basket, she marched to the chicken coop to collect eggs. She needed space and at the moment, even the grand Rocky Mountains weren't big enough to absorb her anger. She wanted to be in command of her posse, and no pretty boy was going to take that away from her!


	5. When all the traitors are redheads

 

June 16, 1862

Days went by and they weren't any closer to understanding the message.  Who and/or what was the pony?  What attack was coming next?  One afternoon, Carrie was feeling restless at home and so she took Langley on a ride to find out what new gossip was going on in town.  In the middle of the busy main street she was tying up Langley to the hitching post, when Quinn rode by on Ford. 

_Great, I'm not going to be able to spy on Miss Allison alone._   The ever confident Mr. Pony Express, pulled up next to her.

*Were you looking for me?

*No.

He dismounted and pulled Ford's reins forward.  
Very quietly he said in her ear.

*If you ever need me, just hang your red and white checked dish towel on your clothes line and we'll meet back by the creek.

*What?

*You know, where we first met Khan.

*Yeah, I know the spot, but how do you know I have a red and white dish towel?

*I saw it hanging by your cook stove.

*And when are you looking at my clothes line?

*Ever morning and night when I go on patrol from the lookout above town.  

*Are you spying on me?

*I call it, doing leg work.

*Well, for one, I don't need your help, and for....

*Wait..

Quinn interrupted Carrie, because a tremendous crash was heard and it sounded like all hell was breaking loose inside the Saloon.  They burst in to find Saul in the middle of utter chaos.  Chairs were being thrown, Redmond had his rifle out, Virgil ran in from across the street, Max was there from next door, even Preacher Danny was trying to pull Saul off of someone.  Carrie tried to get to Saul, she was screaming, manic to get to him.  Suddenly Carrie realizes who Saul was trying to pin down.. Miss Allison!  Danny didn't realize how dangerous Allison was, and Carrie tried to intervene.  Allison pulled Saul's pistol from his gun holster, Carrie lunged for the gun, but it was too late, Allison turned the pistol on herself and pulled the trigger, leaving everyone in the bar stunned. In the silence, Max tried to stop the bleeding but the damage was too great.  Shock filled the faces of everyone.  Miss Martha was crying, clinging to Quinn's shoulder, Virgil was trying to help Max with Allison and Carrie just felt so numb standing next to Saul.  What just happened? Was Saul confronting Allison? Did Allison confess to something?  Saul's face was pale as he walked out the swinging back door.  Carrie hurried to follow him. Half way down the back alley, a hand landed on her shoulder from behind. She spun around.

*Why don't you give him a break.

*Why Quinn?

* Because he just watched his traitorous lover kill herself, that's why.

_When did Quinn get so soft?_

*Carrie , whatever is going down, this is dangerous now, you need to be more careful.

* Why should I listen to you or anyone for that matter?

* Because I'm afraid you are going to get yourself hurt.

Carrie scoffed at the idea.

*I'm serious, these people do not f* around.

Carrie can only counter with,  
*You seem awful cozy with Miss Martha!

*You jealous?

*No.

*Well, she has her hand on the pulse of this town and maybe it would be good to have her on our side.

*Our side?

*Yeah, you want to get stuff done.  People have to trust you.  You should try it sometime.

He turned to go back to the hitching post, leaving Carrie speechless. Her stomach felt sick over the latest events and she felt an overwhelming need to lay down and rest.  Her heart broke for Saul, who just watched Allison shoot herself rather than confess whatever ties she may have to the Nazir Gang. Sh* secrets will kill you every time.

********

The next few days were tough around town as everyone was reeling from Allison's very public suicide. Whatever secret she was keeping, it was worth dying for.  Saul, Carrie and Quinn now feel Brody was definitely the key to whatever was coming next. They stepped up surveillance and by Friday night our trio was in the dark woods, watching Brody drink and play horseshoes behind the livery barn. As the moon rose and the air became calm after the summer heat Saul soon fell asleep. Carrie and Quinn let him rest given the horrible week he had had.

*How is he doing?

Quinn asked motioning to Saul.

*It's been a hell of a week.

*I'm sorry she got under his skin.

*Yeah, they do that to you sometimes.

They were both silent awhile, just listening to the insects buzzing in the night woods.

*I don't know what I'd without him Quinn.  
Carrie confessed, showing a little bit of vulnerability.  Saul had been her rock for so many years, it was hard to put into words.

*I hate to see him so distraught, I wish I could save him from the heartache.

*Yeah, we all wish we could save someone.

There was a silent understanding.  They both felt so responsible, so driven.  It drove them crazy sometimes and it also connected them in ways others could never understand.  Carrie sensed there was more there.

*Who did you want to save?

Quinn was taken aback by the question.  _Did he dare tell her the truth, reveal those old wounds?_   He took a deep breath and jumped in.

*I tried to save the greatest man I knew, once..... but was not yet 5 years old.

*Your dad?

*No, Mr. Estes.

*Who was he?

_So many memories, so much heartache, could she really ever understand?_

*A slave that took care of me after my parents died.

Carrie's chest felt tight, this was not what she expected.  _He was so mysterious and yet sometimes so surprising in his transparency._

Quinn was quiet for a moment, unsure if he really wanted to reveal so much of himself.  Carrie pushed him on.

*What did you want to save him from?

*Everything.  

*Everything?

*We were trying to escape, we went from house to house trying to escape.

*Escape from what?

*From slavery, Carrie.

_What did she think this story was going to be about?  Was she really that blind to how the world really worked?_

*His master wanted to take me away from him, to sell me to another plantation, so we fled, tried to get North to be free.

*How did you know where to go?

*Women would hang secretly patterned quilts on clothes lines to mark safe houses.  We traveled at night, always heading north, following the North Star.

_So many fearful nights, so much running on moonless nights. So many times, I couldn't keep up so Mr. Estes had to carry me.  So many days he gave up food, so I could eat._ Quinn had leaned how to move silently and judge a person's character by his actions and not his skin color.

*'Til?

*'Til we tried crossing a large river on the Missouri border, the current took him away.

Quinn willed himself not to tear up, but he replayed that horrible memory over and over again.  _Watching Mr. Estes get carried away down the river, promising to see him again, if only in heaven.  Mr. Estes believed he would grow into a man of character.  Quinn realized as a young man, that his freedom was only because of the sacrifice and love of Mr. Estes, God he wanted to make him proud._ Quinn tried to quietly continue...

*I wasn't yet five and I tried to pull him with me on-shore, but I couldn't mange it.  He let go first, to insure I survived and the current whisked him away.  Mama eventually found me on the river bank searching for him.  Mr. Estes was the bravest man I ever knew.

_He felt like his soul had just been laid bare._

*You see Carrie, none of us are free until everyone is free.

Carrie was at a loss for words.  She could read the guilt on his face.  _Was Quinn an outsider because he wanted to be or because he was raised by outsiders?  Was that an advantage or disadvantage?_ Carrie realized for all his stoic facade, he as probably more in touch with his conscious, than anyone else she had ever known. _Was such a principled man dangerous?_

*What did the Comanche do for you?

*Taught everything I know, fishing, hunting, shooting, tracking, understanding nature, they taught me to improvise and take my own path...

Quinn could never find the words to explain what these people's unconditional love meant to him.  _How he felt the need to make them proud, and redeem the horrible actions of white people all over this country.  How could he explain to Carrie, his desire to set right the wrongs of the world?  He wanted to stand up for every underdog and defend the weak.  The West had lured him in, because of the dream of executing justice and the hope of freedom._   

This was getting too personal, too deep, he had to deflect the conversation.

*Enough about me... so why Brody? 

* Why not?

* Why not, how about his wife and kids?

* They live hundreds of miles away and...

Quinn finishes her sentence for her,

*You thought he would leave them to run away with you.

Carrie blushed at Quinn's accuracy.

*It was never going to happen.  We haven't really spoken since I found out he was still working for Nazir.

Carrie sounded resolved and almost a little relieved.  
* I mostly just feel anger towards him for this betrayal and at myself for falling for it.  I was just an asset he was running to get information about Saul.  Pathetic huh?

*No, we all have a weakness, he just exploited yours.

*Now I just want to f*ing rip his skin off.

* Sounds like a plan.

They watched Brody retire to his room above the Saloon, he didn't appear to be meeting any asset tonight.

*Well that's it for tonight.

Quinn lit the candle in her tin lantern and handed it to Carrie, as she gently woke up Saul.

*Your work is done here tonight.  See you tomorrow.

Quinn said as he sent them off. 

As Carrie and Saul walked back to their horses, Carrie realized she has allowed Quinn to know more about her than anyone else. That is both revealing and terrifying. Well he didn't know all her secrets, not yet at least.

**********

It was mid-summer and the grass in the middle of the town square is full of buggies parked for the town's 4th of July picnic. Everyone was out in their Sunday best for Independence Day. Flags were flying, and the church was having a lunch social on the lawn.  Looking across the table of baked beans, smoked ham, johnny cake and creamed corn, Quinn noticed Carrie looking very ashen.  He caught her eye and signaled her to meet up behind the general store. Carrie slowly followed.

*You OK?

*Not really, this heat and humid is wearing on me.  I have a headache that won't go away.

*Yeah, it looks like a thunderstorm is rolling in.  Want me to drive you home?  My buggy is right down there.

*Umm.

*That's a yes.

*But..

*I'll make an excuse for you to the Sheriff.

Wordlessly Carrie was grateful.  
They walked down to Quinn's buggy.  As he helped her into the buggy seat, she lost her balance for a moment. He instinctively reached out and grabbed her by the waist to catch her.  Instantly, he felt her bulging belly and quickly jerked his hand back. Carrie flushed red.  He awkwardly hitched up his Morgan team and they headed out of town.

He took a deep breath and prepared for the tornado about to be unleashed.

* You shouldn't be going on the stagecoach ride along tomorrow, not with your condition.

*It not up to you.

*Really Carrie?  It will be way too dangerous.

* So?

* So, Brody could be reckless if he found out. He could use this against you.

* It's not his for your information.

* Really Carrie?

* It's none of your god dammed business or anyone else's.

_She was as infuriating as ever._

* Have you see Dr. Max?

* No, he will tell Saul.

* No he won't.  Let me talk to him. I'll keep him mute.

*Fine.

They drove along to the homestead with only the sound of the horses trotting and the buggy creaking. Eventually, they pulled up in front of the farmhouse.

*Carrie.

*Yeah.

She said sharply.

*Take care of yourself.

He helped her down from the buggy and she stomped off towards the house.

*Sh*t 

Quinn said under his breath, as he drove off.  
Upstairs as she laid down on her bed, somewhere in her heart Carrie was kind of glad Quinn knew her dark secret. Deep down, she knew he will keep it safe.

 


	6. When the stagecoach comes to town

July 5, 1862  
  
It wasn't the best time for Quinn to find out about Carrie's little secret, given the Overland Mail stagecoach line was due to pass through Colorado City. Security was going to be tighter and her posse was organizing ways to protect the mail and the Wells Fargo Bank trunk on-board. The boys generally came to the conclusion that Allison was the pony that couldn't be allowed free. They believed Brody's message was basically a kill order on Allison, probably because she knew too much or they questioned her loyalty. The boys believed she decided to kill in herself rather than someone else put a bullet in her. Carrie didn't really buy this theory. Why would the kill order be in Allison's own handwriting?  Carrie firmly believed something else was going on, what it was, she didn't know.  
  
As the sun rose the next morning, Carrie was a bundle of nerves as she milked Bessie.  She impulsively decided to test Quinn's little dishtowel trick and hung out the red and white checked cloth.  She wondered how long it will take for him to show up.  About 20 minutes later he rode up to the house.  
  
*Why didn't you come to the our meet up spot?  
  
*I just wanted to see if you were paying attention.  
  
*Don't f* with me. This is no joke Carrie, today is a big day.  A day where we show the postal service, Dar and Lockhart that we can keep this stagecoach route safe.  Don't be f*ing playing games with me.  
  
*Hey, I'm the one that has been this Nazir case years before you waltzed into town, so don't lecture me about how important today is.  
  
She wiped her hands on her apron and gave him an icy glare of hate.  
  
*See you at the at the briefing.  
  
She turned and angrily strolled away.  Damn, she so wished she was the one "running things".  
  
  
********  
  
Mid-morning the posse met up in the grove of trees behind the church to plan out their security mission.  On the edge of the clearing, she saw her boys gathered around Quinn, as he appeared to be giving them scouting protocol and shooting instructions. He was commanding, in control, confident and calmly running her team. It was infuriating. He was discussing where he wanted each man positioned along their secret route in hopes of avoiding Nazir or any other freelance robber. Everyone was on horseback, Saul was tugging on his beard looking worried.  Lockhart was talking to Max about Fara most likely.  Sandy the paymaster was there with the stagecoach.  Carrie was dressed her in undercover outfit complete with leather chaps and a worn bandana around her neck.  
In the middle of Quinn's firearms dissertation, Virgil leaned over his horse and whispered to Carrie,  
  
*He's good, he's very good.  
  
Carrie only rolled her eyes.  
  
* Max says he's a great shot and you heard about the Pony....  
  
*Yes, yes, everyone thinks he's a f*ing national hero.  I've heard enough of it.  
  
*What IS your problem Carrie?  
  
*Maybe I want to the be one running the show. He's so smug I could shoot him.  
  
* Maybe you should shoot each other, it might improve your relationship.  
Virgil said with a smile.  
  
Carrie only huffed a response.  
  
Just when she thought the lecture series was over, Lockhart moved to thank everyone involved,  
  
*Thanks for coming out and protecting this important mail route.  I think we're going to show the big wigs back east that we are ready for progress!  My father use to say, "great business partners need transparency, teamwork and..."  
  
Carrie was already bored by his speech.  _If he ever quit his law career, Lockhart could definitely be a great politician._  
  
Carrie's eyes wandered over to the stagecoach itself. The boys had put a padlock on one of the stagecoach doors, so you could only enter through one side.  They also planned to keep Sandy armed inside the coach at all times with the bank trunk full of cash. Carrie longed to be posted in there too. Maybe she wouldn't ask, just assign herself there. The posse was dispensing ammunition and Quinn's intense gaze caught her. He seemed to read her mind, because he pulled her aside, out of ear shot of the posse.  
  
*What is your problem Mr. Smart Ass?  
  
*I told you yesterday, you can't be in the coach.  
  
*Like you can stop me.  
  
*I won't allow it Carrie, it's too dangerous.  
He was firm and serious, with a touch of worry.  
  
*Not at all. Nazir will expect extra security today, he likely won't even show up.  He'll hit us in a few weeks when we let our guard down.  
  
*I still can't let you take that risk.  
  
_I can't let you take that risk with a baby._  
  
Carrie and Quinn were toe to toe on this, so Quinn called for backup. He waved Max over.  
  
*Max help me out here.  Carrie has this a horrible idea....  
  
Quinn says with a knowing look. Obviously he has already filled Max in on Carrie's secret.  
  
* Carrie when you are in the family way...  
  
* Don't start with me Max.  
  
Waving her hands, she huffed off into the forest.  
  
* How many times do you have to tell her something Max?  
  
* A lot.  
  
Max cleaned his wire rim glasses and went back to loading his rifle. Sandy took the horses to the creek to water them before the next leg of their journey. _Sh* he hated to corner her, but there was no time._ Quinn followed Carrie deeper into woods. Sensing his presence, she turned around, got right in his face and screamed,  
  
*Leave me alone!  
  
Watching her become more manic was not a pretty sight. She raked her hands through her hair, destroying her blond braids. She paced fanatically in her too big jeans and riding chaps.  She was muttering rapidly under her breath. She was wound up way too tight for this operation.

_Damn, Carrie, the things you do. The things you do to me. Stomping around in my lucky shirt, carrying Mr. Redhead's baby, screaming about putting yourself in danger._  
Quinn slowly moved closer.

*Carrie.  
He said in the most even tone possible.  
* Sandy and stagecoach will be back soon.  
Moving closer, he reassured her.  
*I know this is personal for you, but I need you at your best.

He's now within arm's length to her.  In one quick motion, he whips her pistol out of her hostler and tucked it in the back of his pants.

*What the f* Quinn?

Carrie in her manic state, slapped him hard across the face.

*You shouldn't have a weapon right now.

*You have no f*ing right Quinn.

*I'm sorry. It's not safe.

*F* you.

Quinn turned and moved to rejoin the posse.  
Carrie screamef back with all the hate she can muster.

*God damn you Quinn!

Carrie cursed a bit more, but when she could think a little more clearly, she pulled her braids and stuffed them back up into her hat.  She straightened her button down shirt and old leather jacket.  _Sh* I'm still wearing his old navy shirt.  Too bad I f*ing don't have any other old clothes around, because I'd really like to throw this old thing at him.  He is not going to hijack my posse on the first day the Overland Mail rides through town!  
_  
In the end, she got her way and was laying on the wooden plank floor of the coach when the op started.  As Sandy had pulled up to the trail head Carrie had jumped in before Quinn could stop her, she was without her pistol, but she was back in the action. She knew Quinn would never let the stagecoach run late, and she used his punctuality against him. _F* me thought Quinn she had won again_.

Riding along in the driver seat, Quinn urged the horses to quicken their step.  The four horsed stagecoach bumped down the dusty dirt road, only the jingle of the reins could be heard.  The sun was high in the sky and the heat beat down on them.  The dirt road turned north and wound deeper into the woods. The dense pine trees provide more shade from the heat, but it made Quinn nervous, as behind any large tree, Nazir's men could be hiding.  His rifle lay across his lap, he had his pistol in his hip holster, and he prayed he could defend her whatever may come. In the densest part of the woods, a dark figure stepped out into the road, pistol drawn, staring them down. The masked man yelled,

*Put your hands up where I can see them.  Hand over your cash and no one will get hurt.

Quinn stopped the horses in front of the man. Anticipating this, Quinn was ready and tossed him a leather pouch of gold nuggets, (mostly fool's gold).  Sandy in the coach threw out a small bag of gold coins.  Slowly the robber moved from the horse team, back towards the coach window, curious as the curtain was drawn.  Quinn abstained from giving the signal to the posse, in hopes their loot would be enough to let them pass.  No one seemed to be breathing.  The robber got all the way to the coach door and suddenly flung it open and grabbed Sandy by the collar.  All hell broke loose, Nazir's gang on horses had the coach surrounded instantly, it was almost suffocating.  Quinn gave the signal and gunshots rang out from the woods.  Carrie tried to grab Sandy's leg as he was dragged from the coach, but two more robbers are there to wrestle Sandy out and pull him to the side of the road.  In horror they watch the fourth man shot him point blank in the back of the head.  Quinn tried to muster the horses to ride on, but the chaos and noise of the ambush had the four horses too spooked to move.  There was nothing but dust, horses, yelling, heat and gun smoke.  Quinn painfully aware Carrie was unarmed in the coach,  jumped down from the drivers seat and positioned himself in front of the door, shielding it for oncoming gang members.

*Get down Carrie.

Was all he had time to shout out.

*Give me my f*ing gun back!

So, in the mist of the fire fight, he reached around to his back and handed Carries her pistol through the coach widow, so she could provide back up cover. Quinn continued to drop men as they approached the door, while the posse still positioned in the woods provided more fire power.

Then as quickly as the ambush began, everyone suddenly stopped.  Nazir himself appeared from the shadows unmasked dragging along Fara.  They stopped in the middle of the dirt filled road. Nazir held Fara by the throat, a gun to her head. Fara's dark braids ran down her back, she was perfectly still, only the fringe on her deerskin dress and leggings moved in the hot breeze. Her beautiful face was confident and still.  Saul broke his position and stepped out from behind a tree and trying to talk Nazir down but Nazir would have none of it.  In that terrible moment, Carrie realized that they had been played all along.  In their efforts to protect the mail coach, all their security was positioned in the woods and it only took two of Nazir's men, three minutes to extract Fara from the clinic undetected.  This was their real objective.  Carrie felt nauseated.  There was more yelling and threats, Lockhart stepped forward into the road and tried to exchange his life for hers.  His pain was palpable, he even went so far as to pull out the Wells Fargo Bank trunk and offer it to Nazir, but it was fruitless. In the end, to the horror of everyone looking on,  Nazir pulled the trigger and Fara dropped at his feet. 

  
With nothing left to lose, gunfire rained down from every direction. Nazir was dead a moment later, and the rest of Nazir's men were sitting ducks out in the open road.  The gang retreated, heading for the hills, riding off to hide in the endless wildness.

After the the dust settled, every eye was on Lockhart, holding Fara is his arms. For a bunch of real rugged, macho, manly men, that image of a grieving a father's love haunted them deeply. Only Quinn noticed the unspoken grief on Max's face in the back of the crowd.  Carrie stumbled out of the mail coach, her stomach was in knots, so much blood..... everywhere.  She staggered to a pine tree and lost her breakfast.

The sick truth was that Nazir's plan all along was not just to ambush the mail route, but to kill Fara.  She was the pony that they didn't want to get away.  Lockhart later admitted that Nazir had attempted to blackmail him into handing over a share of the railroad construction profits. Lockhart had refused and this was the consequence.  How could they have let this happen? To Sandy .....to Fara?

*******

That night, Quinn found Carrie behind the school house with a large bottle of whiskey drowning out the savagery of the day.

*You shouldn't be alone with that much whiskey.

*You want some?

*No thanks.

Carrie took a swig from the amber bottle and stared up at the stars.  It was a horrendous day to have to review.  Those images haunted her mind.

*What a clusterf* huh? How could Nazir have known our route?

*I don't know Carrie, the only men at the briefing this morning were Max, Virgil, Saul, Lockhart, Sandy and I.

A dark thought crossed Carrie's mind,

*What if Sandy had been sold out to Nazir? Why didn't he use his pistol? Maybe because he trusted them.

*F* Carrie, he was shot in the head by them.

*Nazir has a long history of sacrificing his own people.

*That's some dark sh*.

*Yeah, well we were f*ed from the start and you shouldn't have jumped down in front of the mail coach door today.

* I was worried..... about what they could have...  
_What they could have done to you._

*I should have had my pistol.

*You should have been on my side, to begin with.

*I never said I wasn't.

*Does that mean you trust me?

*Do I have a choice?

_She never had really thought about it. She just knew he was on her side.  Was that even a question? Especially after his actions today, jumping in front of the stagecoach door.  That was more than just back up, that was next to suicide._  
Carrie moved on...

*Did you see him?

They both know who she is talking about.

*Yeah, I saw of a flash of his red hair.  He headed north after Nazir went down.

*Maybe you should have taken him out when you had the chance.

*It wasn't my call.  
_Quinn shuddered to think of Carrie having to watch Brody die in front of her.  He wanted to spare her the memory._

* He is screwing us over.  You see that right?

*Don't worry Quinn, I hate him too. I do. It's just complicated.

Quinn couldn't help but sneak a peak at her middle.

*Yeah, I get it's complicated, but if Javadi's gang finds him they will string him up so fast.. he can't survive out there for very long. With Nazir gone Javadi is sure to seek revenge on his rival gang.

*I get it Quinn.

*You just need to prepare yourself Carrie, this could end badly.

*It always does.

She looked up into the night sky.  The stars were so bright, she wished she could turn back time. There were so many things she wanted to do over, namely that she would have stayed the hell away from Brody.


	7. The best of fall

September 1, 1862  
  
The first leaves were just starting to turn crimson, and the air in the morning had turned sharp with cold.  Fall was just around the corner, when one early morning Quinn came riding up to the homestead on Ford, yelling for Carrie.  She grabbed her shawl, pushed open the kitchen door and ran out to him.  
  
*The Javadi gang has captured Brody, they want to hang him for stealing horses. Come on.  
  
He reached down, took Carrie by the hand and pulled her up into the saddle with him.  He wrapped his arms gently around her middle and together they rode off, racing towards town.  There was already a crowd gathered around the east side of the grassy town square.  The rope was out and his feet were already off the ground, when she slid off of Ford.  She moved towards the middle of the crowd, and she felt the world was spinning . She wanted to scream, she wanted to cut him down, but the Javadi gang was everywhere. The rival gang, was no doubt trying to take over this territory, knowing this would soon be the center of gold and railroad profits.  
  
In the chaos, under her shawl, she felt a large hand slip into hers. He squeezed it reassuringly. His eyes may have been coolly focused ahead, but his hand told a different story. She squeezed his hand back, it was her anchor in the storm. In the midst of a jumble of emotions, this one simple act surprised her with feelings of comfort, trust and understanding. He just made the world seem right again. For the first time in a long time she didn't feel alone. Most people in the crowd that day, thought they saw a horse thief brought to justice, for a few people in her posse, they knew the rival Javadi gang was getting back at the Nazir gang, trying to take Colorado City for their own.  But only one person there knew what that redheaded outlaw meant to Carrie and the secret she was carrying.  She was so glad she had his hand, he was the one guiding her away from the darkest seas.  
  
*********  
  
Brody was finally gone and maybe this was the fresh start she needed.  The past was buried and maybe a few secrets could be buried too.  She felt an odd sense of freedom, like a dark shadow was no longer haunting her.  Maybe the past could be re-written.  Of course life out west was not, in general, easy.  A few days later, Carrie was deep into doing her dreaded task of laundry.  She pretty much hated all of it, the soaking, the slimy brown soap, the endless washing, the hanging it out to dry, the ironing with the hot irons next to the fireplace, the whole f*ing thing.  It was a thankless job because one mud puddle or one walk to town, could destroy all her efforts to keep her clothes clean.  Mira helped most days, but Carrie still had to do laundry every now and then and she dreaded it.  While hanging out her last load of clothes on her clothesline next to the barn,  she decided to signal him with her red checked dish towel, just to break up the boredom.  
  
After she changed out of her wet work dress, she rode Langley down to the creek and the old oak tree. As she dismounted her pony, she suddenly felt lightheaded.  Maybe it was jumping down from her pony too quickly, or the fact she had not had breakfast?! At any rate, from behind her she heard Ford coming up through the woods.  
  
*Hey, you OK?  
  
Carrie turned around to see him, but her complexion was ghostly white and the forest started to spin. As the world went black for her, Quinn ran to catch her, just as she went limp.  
  
*Motherf*er!  
  
Carefully he placed her down in the soft yellow grass, checking her breathing.  She was still breathing, but her face was a horrible blue/grey color. He pulled off his faded jacket, folded it and placed under her feet to elevates them. Still unresponsive, his next task was to soak his handkerchief in the creek. Placing the wet, cool cloth on her forehead he urged her..  
  
* Carrie, Carrie, it's Quinn.  Come on.  
  
He shook her shoulders, still nothing. He checked her pulse, something wasn't right.  
  
*Carrie, listen, I need you to open your eyes. It's important.  
  
_Please, please Carrie._  
  
* I'm right here. Please come back.  
  
Fear filled his gut.  
_Don't make me beg._  
Talking a nervous deep breath, he placed his hand on her abdomen, trying to feel for the baby's movement.  
_Sh* this is all too tight._  
  
*Carrie, listen to me. This corset is too tight, I'm just going to loosen it.  
  
He rolled her onto her side and his anxious hands went to the back of the yellow dress with small blue flowers on it and unbuttoned a few of the tiny buttons. Delicately he moved his hand into her dress to untie her corset strings. 

_Sh* Carrie this is way too tight._  
He untied more of her corset, as he did she slowly opened her eyes to see concern written all over his face.

*Hey you OK?

Nothing but silence from Carrie.

*You fainted.  I had to loosen your corset.  You have this thing way too tight for the baby....

_Please say something, you are scaring the sh* out of me._

Examining each others eyes, Carrie impulsively, gently moved forward to close the space between them and tenderly kissed his lips. Something in the world forever changed, his hands were immediately in her hair, her arms were wrapped around his neck.  Two worlds collided but suddenly Quinn backed away.  Carrie sat up breathless.  

_Why the f* did he stop?_

*I can't do this if you only see me as a substitute for your old outlaw boyfriend.

His piercing blue eyes searched her face, his transparency was clear.  Carrie matched his honesty.

*That wasn't real Quinn.  That was dangerous and temporary and all about the thrill.

*And this?

Quinn waved his hand between them.

*This is real.  This all about you... and me.  I promise.

*Is it Carrie or is it going to be a Shakespearean tragedy?

Carrie narrowed her eyes with intensity.

*Come find out.

She pulled him into a more passionate kiss. In the cover of the dense woods, he carefully unbuttoned the rest of her dress. She swiftly pulled it over her head. Then he softly unbuttoned the rest of her chemise. He gasped slightly as her breasts spilled out of her corset and her creamy white, protruding belly was finally exposed.  She was farther along than he realized.

*Does it bother you?

She said, reading his mind.

*Hell no.

He smiled and showed her all the ways it didn't bother him. She pulled his shirt off, he unbuttoned his pants. In a moment their bare chests touched and Carrie was undone. After so many things had piled up between them, they were finally stripped bare. Emotionally and physically. There was nothing to hide, there was no shame to carry.

Under the giant oak tree that bore their initials, they were re-telling their story of meeting, but this time it ended differently.  They finally finished what they had started four years earlier.  She blamed it on the highs of pregnancy hormones, he blamed it on her ever expanding bosom.  Either way, that fall they found more and more creative ways to meet up, in the abandoned mill upstream, Lockhart's barn attic, out in the woods, and once in Carries own upstairs bed, when Saul was away. It wasn't just passion, it was trust and comfort, it was careful and slow, tender sweetness and joy unspeakable. They always wished they could linger longer afterwards, but their presence would be missed elsewhere.  It was a small window in time, in which they knew that their actions would have no consequences... at least no more consequences than Carrie was already carrying.

In some ways it wasn't surprising that they were sneaking around, undressing each other, because they had long ago begun being emotionally naked.  It was a deeper intimacy than Carrie could understand.  She had given him more of herself, all of herself really, in exchanged for all of him. He didn't own or possess her, what he gave in exchange, he gave freely. Quinn knew what it was to be enslaved literally, but his love wasn't that. He loved her like he wanted the world to work, like the world he was fighting to create. His love was as expansive as the western sky and free for the taking.

Part of the surprise within their new found passion, was that Carrie's ever changing body led to new exploring every time. Carrie was emotionally all over the map, but when she was on, it was difficult to keep up. It seemed as though she was extra sensitive to his every touch. Pregnancy had amped up her physical and emotional response. It was difficult to stifle her ever growing intense moaning, much to Quinn's embarrassment. This continued as their little secret within a secret.  But a secret that would not last forever.  Carrie's belly was continuing to grow and all the petticoats and shawls in the world weren't going to cover it up forever. They both willfully ignored the future. Of course he knew she was having Brody's baby, but deep down he wished it was his. He wished that it could be theirs together, a physical representation of their shared beauty. A new little person that represented their love.

***********

Once in the late afternoon sunlight, they were laying on a bed of dusty, hay in the barn attic. Carrie's head fit perfectly against his neck and he was warm underneath her. She liked to smell his neck and tickle him behind his ears, he couldn't help but let out a suppressed giggle.  With his eyes closed he gently caressed her soft bare back. They both were so content in the afterglow, they didn't want to break the moment by speaking. Instead he carefully rolled her over, grinning silently, admiring her curvy form, then he delicately traced her ever flattening bellybutton with his fingers.

*I don't look too much like a hippopotamus for you? 

*F*ing no.  You're a real blossoming women.... who is glowing.

His eyes shone with pride.

*And..

He finished her sentence for her.

*We all make mistakes Carrie.  But this little one here is a gift.

His uncompromising acceptance of her shone on his face.  He kissed her belly and gently helped her stand up. He handed her several petticoat's and took his time buttoning up the back of her dress, kissing the nape of her neck. Standing behind her, he wrapped her up in his arms. She wished time would stand still.

The sun was setting as they drove back to town in his buggy. Something in the tenderness in Quinn's eyes reassured Carrie that whatever may come, he would be there. As they approached town he handed her a pail of wild blackberries he had recently picked. Her cover for these afternoons was berry picking, looking for the last of the berries before the frost came. 

_He was wordlessly so f*ing reliable._

***********

Around town she tried to act "normal" around him, all the while thinking about how much he had filled out since their teenage days. Once during a posse meeting in Saul's sheriff office with Dar and Lockhart, Carrie could barely focus on the map laid out on the table in front of them. It was as if Quinn could read her thoughts, because without looking, he unbuttoned the top button of his light blue shirt. Carrie couldn't stop the raising color in her cheeks.  As if to double dare her, he unbuttoned the second button too. Carrie suppressed a smile and countered, by gently placing her shoe over his boot under the table. She tried to focus again on the conversation, but her mind kept wandering back to his shirt and everything else under his clothes.  Later, they were grateful the stable out back was made of solid log walls, because, well anything less would not do.

***********

Harvest time was here and life was full of picking and preserving the fall crops for winter.  There were pumpkins, squashes, carrots, potatoes and turnips to pick in their home vegetable garden.   Life moved forward, and for the first time in a long time Carrie felt like the sun had finally come out. One crisp morning, when Carrie went out to milk Bessie the cow, she found a brown paper package in her tin milk pail. Opening it up she found a beautiful piece of navy blue cambric and new pattern of calico cloth in dark blue with tiny rose buds all over it.  She smiled inside, and knew exactly where it came from.

With the help of a seamstress in town, a few Sundays later, she was wearing a new dark blue dress.  Walking out of the church he tipped his hat.  She couldn't help but smile as he whispered in her ear,

*Nice to have something that fits you better.

She tried not to blush, but he made sure their hands gentle brushed as he walked away. She shivered at his soft touch. Carrie turned around, and found herself faced with Virgil. 

*Nice dress.

Virgil commented with knowing eyes and Carrie suppressed a giggle.  Only the shopkeeper in town knows where everyone's clothes come from.  Thank god he was on their side.

* * * * * * *

Early one morning before anyone was awake, he picked her up in his buggy at the homestead and they drove to town for a check up with Max.  As they rode though the woods the was sun just peaking out from behind the mountains.  Neither one said anything, Carrie just leaned her head on his shoulder. Her heavy shawl wasn't going to cover her bump for much longer.  Quinn finally said what he had wanted to say for months...

*We could stop by the church and see Preacher Danny.

*Why?

*To make it official. So your baby won't be labeled a bastard.

*I can't be a mother Quinn. I can't be a wife. I would hate it, you would hate it. The baby is better off with Maggie.

_Was he really willing to absorb all the scandal that Brody left behind?_

There was a long pause.  He told both reins in one hand and with the other, he took her hand in his. She noticed his large hands were stained and slightly cut up from his hours of fighting blackberry brambles.  His voice was calm, but heavy with emotion.

*But Carrie, it's not just about the baby. You want out? We could get far away from here, go to California... together. We could get out and stay out.

Carrie paused for a moment and what she said next haunted her for years to come.

*I'll f* it up Quinn, I will, I do.  It's impossible.  
I'm so afraid Quinn. I'm so afraid of failure, I'm afraid of hurting you .

_Do you not trust me Carrie? Am I not enough for you? Please just say yes._

They were silent for the next few miles.  They were still holding hands, but a distance grew between them.  In the aching stillness Carrie wondered if she had made a huge mistake.  Many years later, she wished she could have had the courage to say "yes".  She had no idea a gold ring was burning a hole in his vest pocket.

 


	8. Not a silent night

December 19,1862  
  
Carrie procrastinated too long.  Quinn finally determined that if she wanted to get to Denver before the baby was born, they would need to leave that week.  Carrie was so achy, her back hurt, she couldn't sleep well, she dreaded the long sleigh ride and the confrontation with Maggie.  She should have written a letter, to warn Maggie, but it was too late now. Max had been covering for her pregnancy thus far, recommending she stay indoors and out of sight to recover from her "poor lungs" but time was running short.  
  
Early on a clear Wednesday morning before sun up, Quinn rode up to the homestead without jingle bells (less chance of waking up Saul).  Carrie was ready by the back door with her small trunk.  She left a note for Saul, telling him she was going to Maggie's for a week.  She promised to wire him when she got to Denver.  Quinn helped her into the cutter, then covered her with several buffalo blankets, along with hot stones at her feet.  In a moment they were off into the icy dawn.  
  
The snow covered hills passed behind them and they drove in silence.  They knew this was the end of the affair.  There was never enough time, there never would be, it felt so bittersweet.  Tiny towns flew by and the dim winter sun rose in the sky.  Dark clouds keep rolling over the mountains and worry flashed over Quinn's face.  
  
*What's wrong?  
  
*Nothing.  
  
*Tell me.  
  
*Just looks like snow is coming.  
  
Mid- morning they stopped in a three building, one horse town.  Quinn chopped the ice off the top of the water barrel next to the hitching post and watered the horses. Meanwhile Carrie couldn't seem to quite eat the cold lunch Quinn had packed of cold chicken pie and a wedge of hard cheese.  Quinn climbed back into the cutter.  
  
*We are about half way to Denver.  You OK?  
  
Carrie turned white and panic rose in her gut.  
  
*I don't know.. but something is wrong.  
  
Quinn threw off the blankets, pulled back her coat, muffler and shawl.  He pulled off his mittens and felt her rock hard belly.  Then he noticed her petticoat was soaking wet.  
  
*Sh*t Carrie you just lost your waters.  
  
*What the hell Quinn?  
  
*You can't stay out in these freezing temperatures soaking wet. We need to get you inside.  
  
*No, we have to get to Maggie's.  
  
*Carrie we are hours away, and snow is coming.  
  
*I can't do this.  
  
*Yes, you can.  
  
He picked her up and carried her to a simple two story boarded building that appeared to be the store, in this minuscule town.  
  
Quinn tried the door, and it swung open.  They walked into the little country store full of axes, nails, cloth, powder, shot, tin pans, along with barrels of cornmeal, flour and brown sugar.  
  
*Hello?  
  
*Yes can I help you?  
  
A beautiful buxom redhead appeared behind the counter.  
  
*Yes, I was wondering if we could rent a room from you Miss....?  
  
*Eden. Well, we aren't exactly an inn, we are more of a dry goods store and post office.  
  
*I'm sorry to intrude Ma'am but it's my wife's time.  See it's our first baby, we really just need a room for the night.  
  
Carrie, still in Quinn's arms, flashed him an incredulous look. He hissed in her ear,  
  
*Start moaning.  
  
Carrie looked disgusted but played along.  
Quinn gently put her down and unwrapped her from her overcoat, shawl and muffler, till she was only in her too tight blue dress.  It was obvious Quinn was trying to show Eden Carrie's very protruding abdomen.  Honestly even Quinn was a little surprised at how big Carrie has grown since he last saw her completely unwrapped. 

 _Sh*t this was definitely her time, the baby had really dropped._  
With wide eyes Eden stammered,

*Well, Dad has a bedroom upstairs.  He's gone to Denver for a few days.  I guess you could use his room, if you need to.  But you should know we only have a saloon and blacksmith shop here in town.  Their ain't no midwife around here for 30 miles.

Quinn placed an arm around a moaning Carrie and exclaimed,

*Thank you so much for your hospitality, we'll take the room.  
Then in the most nonchalant tone possible he added,  
*Don't worry, we won't be needing a midwife, I'll be delivering our baby.

Eden's mouth dropped open. Carrie almost fell over.  Quinn caught her and she hissed in outrage into his ear,

*Over my dead body.

*Don't say that Carrie. You need to trust me on this.

Eden went to get a key to the room, and Quinn slowly helped a waddling Carrie up the stairs. The room was small, but clean, with a fireplace for heat and one glass window that looked out towards the street.  Quinn busied himself with getting towels, building up the fire, taking all Carrie's wet clothes and drying them by the fireplace  (Quinn continued to be amazed at all the layers of undergarments women wore) and putting up the horses in the stable around back.  Meanwhile Carrie was left in her chemise and extra woolen dress sitting on the bed wondering how she ever got to this point.  She was feeling antsy and anxious, she started pacing the room furiously.  When Quinn came back with their trunks of luggage, Carrie tried again to talk him into pushing on towards Maggie's.

*Carrie you are being impossible. When did Max think this baby was coming?

*In a few weeks, I think.

*You think?

*Well, it's not like Max delivers babies every week. Colorado City is mostly gold miners and railroad men. I mean when was the last time you saw a baby in town?

*F*ing Max has no idea.

*I'm fine now. Let's push on to Maggie's.

*Carrie, you aren't going to be fine in a few hours. Why don't you rest up. The snow is really coming down right now and you need to save your energy.

Carrie was too tired to fight. In a huff, she leaned back again the wooden bed post, and pulled a quilt over herself.

Out of his trunk he pulled out a book and started reading it aloud.  
* "My father’s family name being Pirrip, and my Christian name Philip, my infant tongue could make of both names nothing longer or more explicit than Pip. So, I called myself Pip....."

*What book is this?

*A new book by Charles Dickens.

Eventually Carrie, under the warmth of the covers and Quinn's voice reading to her, drifted off to sleep.  At some point Quinn dozed off too, in the chair next to her.

The afternoon dragged on. Quinn went back to feed the horses their supper and then went looking for Eden to find some supper of their own.  He found her downstairs behind the store, in the kitchen.

*Hello Miss Eden.  Can we purchase a meal from you?

*No need for payment, I was already making venison stew and crackling cornbread.

*Thank you again for your hospitality, it smells wonderful.

Eden ladled out two bowls of steaming stew.

*Of course. Its a pleasure to have company. Your wife seems very nice.

*Yes, well...

Just then they heard screaming and cursing upstairs.

*Sounds like she is awake, I better go.

Quinn burst back upstairs, with two bowls of stew, only to find Carrie, doubled over the side the bed screaming.

*Keep breathing Carrie, calm down.

*Why don't you calm the f* down.

Sweat was pouring down her face, she had ditched her woolen dress and was just in her muslin white chemise.  She was moaning, she was crying, she was pretty sure she was dying.  He helped her back into bed, and wondered how they were going to get through the night.

The hours wore on and the wind outside sounded furious. While the snowstorm howled around them, upstairs it was difficult to know if Carrie was making progress.  Quinn summoned the courage to say, what needed to be said, despite the hurricane he knew it would create,

*Carrie, at some point I'm going to have to look and.... you know.. examine you.

*F* you.

*And since I have, I would think you'd be OK with this.

*You are not f*ing touching me. Get the hell away from me.

*Carrie...

* How would you f*ing know? How many babies have you had?

* I've helped deliver nine. How about you?

Carrie's mouth dropped open. She literally had no words. Being the youngest in her family she had never seen her own mother give birth and now Saul wasn't exactly midwife material.

*Well, I'm not really an Indian mother.

*Don't worry, you're the strongest person I have ever known. I just need to check to make sure baby is in the right position.

Something in his pleading eyes reminded her that this was not going to be easy for him either. _Sh* she hated when he was right._  
She nodded and tried not think about what was coming next.  Quinn made her squat next to the bed and between contractions, with his right hand he checked her progress.

*F* that hurt like...

*You are still too tight Carrie, baby is still too high.

*Well drag him out.

* I can't do that, besides first babies are famous for coming slowly.

*Now you tell me this. F* me.

*Now is not really the time.

She did not find it funny.  She was ready to slap him, but unfortunately she was doubled over in pain again. Between Carrie's swearing and yelling and the multiple threats to Quinn's life and his manhood, Quinn decided there was more that needed to be done.

*Carrie, this isn't working, I think we need to walk the stairs.

* Are you f*ing insane? 

* It's going to help.... you know... open up your womb.

Scarlet spread over his face. Quinn realized that his female anatomical vocabulary was only in Comanche. Of course now, was not the time for an anatomy/English lesson. F* anatomy, Carrie needed hope.  With kind eyes and a confident tone he assured her,

*You can do this.  Women are made to do incredible things.

His confidence in her gave Carrie the needed courage to trust him.   He helped her out of bed and into to the hallway.  Together they slowly walked the stairs.  He supported her when her body seized with pain.  He helped her breathe and focus.  She groaned into his chest.

*Tell me it's going to be over soon... please.

*You're doing great.

Carrie gasped and dug her nails into his arms, cursing endlessly.  A minute later she came back.

*So tell about these nine births.  
_What was he, a women whisperer?_

*Well Mama, my Comanche mama, was a midwife and often helped girls in the birthing tent.  Men weren't allowed near the tent during a women's time but when I was little, I would help, mostly so mama could keep an eye on me.

*She didn't trust you?

*I tended to get into fights with the older boys.

They both laughed at little at the thought. They needed something to laugh at.

Quinn's trick walking the stairs seemed to help, because soon the pain was non-stop and Carrie never had a moment to catch her breath, let alone speak.  Quinn made her squat next to the bed again, while he supported her arms.  He likely lost some hearing in his right ear, due to her screaming into his neck.  He tried to have her focus all her energy into pushing and not yelling, but Carrie was still Carrie.  In the end, in the middle of a snowstorm, in a town they had never been to before, Carrie had a perfect little baby girl with ginger hair.

He bathed Frannie, swaddled her up tightly and placed her on Carrie's chest.  They both had tears in their eyes staring down at their Christmas miracle. Quinn was bursting with pride and Carrie was awash in awe. Everything else melted away and holding Frannie just made the world seem complete. 

*She is perfect Carrie.

He touched her arm and she saw the ache in his eyes, no doubt missing Johnny. Some how she wanted to comfort him.

*It's OK Quinn, maybe soon you can go back to Philadelphia and see Johnny.

*I can't.

*Course you can.

*No, it not the same.

*Why?

Something inside him broke.  She read something tragic in his face. She knew in an instant.

*I'm so sorry Quinn.

*They couldn't deliver Johnny fast enough.

Pain filled his face.

*I buried him in his mama's arms.

Silently the tears came. Carrie was the one to offer comfort. After a long silence Quinn said,

*This kid is a gift Carrie, you can't f* it up.

Carrie felt so very cold and extremely exhausted, so Quinn climbed into the little bed with her, holding her tight against his chest, looking past her shoulder to see a beautiful cherubim newborn face staring back at him. She felt elation, relief and the desire to never leave the comfort and security of his arms.  She feel asleep in a haze of joy, with Frannie snuggled next to her.

Quinn fell asleep wishing he could protect them from all the heartache of life.  He wanted to give Frannie the life he was never able to give Johnny. He wanted to execute justice with Carrie and build a life worth living. He could hear her breathing slow down and felt her relax into his arms, melting into his chest.  It was a moment he wanted to bottle up and keep with him forever.  He would replay this night again and again in the years to come.  After a few hours, he must have fallen asleep, because his eyes flew open as he heard Frannie crying.  He unwrapped himself from Carrie and walked around the bed to pick up the new bundle of ginger.

*Carrie, Carrie... Frannie is hungry.

Carrie sleepily opened one eye.

*You can feed her.

*If only.  Here.

He helped her to sit up in bed.  Frannie was really getting worked up now as Carrie opened her chemise, and Quinn handed her the baby.  She tried nursing her, but the newborn only cried louder. Carrie felt defeated.

*See Quinn, I can't do this.

*Yes you can.

He took his pillow and placed it under Frannie, then helped re-positioned her better.  Instantly Frannie stopped crying and started nursing.  The room became quiet, only the fireplace crackled.

*So your mama teach you this too?

*Maybe.

Carrie suddenly missed her own mother.  She wished her parents could have met Frannie.  Uncontrollable tears started streaming down her face.  _Man, she was an emotional wreck._   Quinn just sat next to her put his arm around her shoulders, physically reassuring her, she wasn't alone.  There was nothing left to hide. She had never been so vulnerable, all the while she knew she was absolutely safe.  

He gently burped Frannie, while Carrie snuggled back under the quilts. As the night wore on a warm Frannie slept on her chest and Quinn slightly snored in her ear, while his arms enfolded them in his embrace and she couldn't help but smile. It was the first night she slept all night in his arms, and she realized there was no where else she wanted to be.   As she drifted off to sleep again, she wondered how different life would be next year, or the year after. Maybe it was better she couldn't peer into the future.  She couldn't worry about tomorrow,  she just had to enjoy this moment.

It's funny that when she would think back to this night, one phrase stuck with her... she felt cherished. For all the difficult times, for all the yelling, for all their raw moments, in the end she felt valued for herself and utterly cherished.

************

It was early, when Quinn saw the morning sunlight stream through the window.  He gently kissed Carrie's forehead and put another quilt on top of them, before getting up and building up the fire in the fireplace.  He got dressed and went to check on the horses.  The snow had stopped and the morning was icy and clear.  He stomped the snow off his boots as he walked into Eden's kitchen. Eden was working over the cook stove.  He could hear salt pork frying and pancakes were piled high on a platter with butter melting between each of them.

*Good morning Ma'am. Smells wonderful.

*Good morning Mr. Quinn. How is Carrie and baby...

*Francine.  She is named after Carrie's father.

*Francine Quinn, what a beautiful name.

Quinn felt his throat close up at sound of it.  His heart ached with longing.  If only that name were true.

*I made some breakfast. I know it was a late night last night.

_I think everyone in this town probably knows that._

*Thank you so much for the breakfast, I apologize if we kept you up.

*Not to worry. I was happy to hear your little one finally cry. She is your Christmas miracle.

*Yes she is.  
Quinn couldn't help but beam with pride.  
*Miss Eden may I use your washtub? I have some washing I need to do...

*Of course.

*We'll likely leave later in the morning when it's not so terribly cold out.  Is that OK?

*No problem.

*Thank you.

*And Mr. Quinn....whoever that Carrie is up there, she's a lucky girl.

Quinn blushed a little and tipped his hat to her as he took the washtub upstairs.  As he opened the bedroom door, he found Carrie sputtering around.

*What is wrong?

*Frannie has pooped everywhere!

*Here.

Quinn reached into his trunk and pulled out a neat stack of new, white cloth diapers. Carrie's eyes were wide with surprise.

*Where did you get these?

*You aren't the only one Virgil lets order directly from the Montgomery Wards catalog.

*but...

*Don't worry Max and Virgil are sworn to secrecy.

There was a twinkle in his eye.

_F* that guy was a good spy, she had admit. He seemed to have this baby thing figured out._

Carrie was bundling up Frannie, when Quinn cut in,

*Don't you think you should nurse her before we drive off?

*Oh, Quinn its too painful, my nipples are raw.  
.  
*It will hurt more if you don't nurse her again soon.  Come on.

*F* no one tells you how much having a kid hurts.

Quinn tried to suppress a smile. Carrie sat on the edge of the bed, Quinn used his pillow trick and helped to position Frannie.  As she was nursing away contentedly, his face turned serious.

*Carrie you aren't going to tell Max or Virgil. ...

*That you are a midwife?  Is that too womanly for you?

*I have a reputation.....

*For helping all new mothers nurse their newborns?

*I still want to be a REAL man around town.

*Your secret is safe with me Nurse Quinn.

Her eyes laughed at him. _So f*ing reliable, in ways she never imagined._

By mid-morning, Quinn had packed up their trunks and hitched up the Morgans. Quinn helped Carrie down the stairs one more time. Eden met them by the back door, to see them off.

*You have a very beautiful family Mrs. Quinn.

Carrie thanked her, but inside her heart ached.  She realized only Eden would ever see them as a family of three.

Their fantasy life ended when they arrived at Maggie's home in Denver that afternoon.  It was all just pretend, reality came crashing down. Quinn dropped off her trunk and said a quick good-bye before driving off in the snow.  Carrie was too focused on breaking the news of baby Frannie to Maggie to really even thank him. Maggie took it as well as could be expected. Before leaving Denver, Quinn stopped by a fancy housewares shop for an errand and then turned the horses around to drive home.

Later that night when Carrie opened her trunk, she found a perfectly wrapped little package laying on top.  She untied the twine, pulled back the paper, and she discovered a beautiful white christening gown.  Tears filled her eyes. 

_I guess you really can order anything from Montgomery Wards_.  

A few months later, Maggie dressed Frannie in that crisp, lace edged gown to have her picture taken.  A grand expense, but Maggie wanted the photo as a keepsake for Carrie.  The beautiful black and white photo also reminded Carrie of Quinn too.

Carrie stayed almost two weeks with Maggie before a wet nurse could be found.  Maggie's husband Bill eventually drove Carrie back to Colorado City and she never told Saul about Frannie.  There are some secrets that just can't be told.


	9. In a snowy gulch

February 27, 1863  
  
Carrie struggled internally with a lot of guilt that winter. Guilt over Frannie, guilt over keeping such a monumental secret from Saul. Saul was the father Carrie needed after Minnesota, yet she wanted to protect him from all the shame and disappointment of the truth.  
  
Yet her one, singular night with Quinn felt like it took place in a parallel world. Her guilt over Frannie led her to suppress her feelings about everything. Sadness clouded her world, even her judgment.  Depression robbed her of the kindness that stood right in front of her. Quinn continued to play the part of the fearless, cool guy running things, but inside he ached for the chance to show Carrie that life could be different. Of course they both weren't one for words and it was easier to ignore the elephant in the room, then address it. They kept up those facades and blindly moved on.  
  
The posse doubled their efforts against Javadi.  The Javadi gang had gained local momentum, now that Nazir and Brody were both dead.  As the snow drifted down around town, Carrie was in the sheriff's office adding kindling to the fire in the pot belly wood stove.  Suddenly Quinn and Saul came bursting in with none other than Javidi himself, in custody.  
  
*What the f*?  
  
*We caught him trying to ambush the stagecoach.  
  
*Sh*t Saul, that's amazing.  
  
The boys placed him in the jail cell behind the office.  Carrie could hardly believe they had Javadi in custody, yet something in her gut made her feel uneasy.  Saul filled with pride, went across the street to tell the other guys, while Carrie pulled Quinn over to the front door and whispered in his ear,  
  
*Something doesn't feel right.  This feels too easy, something else is going on.  
  
*Like what?  
  
*I don't know yet. Keep your eyes open.  
  
*Alright.  
  
*I need to go get Lockhart and bring this guy to justice, the sooner the better.  
  
She pulled on her heavy wooden coat and hat, then stepped out into the slushy, snowy street and saw Saul talking to Virgil on the doorstep of the general store.  Carrie interrupted them,  
  
*Hey, I'm going to get Lockhart, we need to deal with Javadi as soon as possible. Even if...  
  
But before she could finish her sentence, a blast of heat and dust hit her back.  She turned around to see an explosion rock main street. Dust and debris came spewing out of the back of the bank, next to the jail.   Carrie ran back into the dust cloud.  In the smoky chaos, Carrie just caught a look at four masked robbers as they rode off, out of the haze.  Carrie coughed and stumbled into the back of the bank only to find the vault was cleared out.  
  
*F* me.  
  
Not only was the gold gone, but all the homestead and mineral rights claims were gone as well.  Carrie turned to her left, suddenly realizing the wall between the bank and the jail was decimated and Javadi's cell stood empty.  
  
*Motherf*  
_Javadi must have packed in dynamite_.  
  
A hand reached out of the smoke and caught her arm, a familiar voice croaked,  
  
*Sh*t Carrie, get your gun.  
  
An ash covered Quinn pulled Carrie out of the choking smoke and handed her a rifle.  He yelled for Max and Virgil, Saul was already on his horse, their only hope was to try to catch up to Javadi and his men.  Within moments the posse rode out towards the church and Danny mounted up, together they galloped out of town with their horses kicking up mud and icy snow.  
  
Carrie's posse tracked Javadi easily in the snow towards Gregory's Gulch.  It was a red rock canyon, with knife edge cliffs dotted with pine trees.  The bottom of gulch was filled with gold miners sluice boxes.  The narrow trail forked, and with horse tracks everywhere Saul, Danny and Quinn took the trail to left, Carrie and Virgil went to the right.  Their narrow trail twisted higher up the gulch.  Suddenly she heard Quinn and Saul call out, Carrie raced down to the bottom gulch, she made it the floor of the snow covered base, only to be paralyzed at the sight of Javadi grasping Danny by the throat, with a pistol to his head. As Javadi screamed out threats Saul dismounted and started walking towards the two trying to talk him down. Carrie couldn't breath. While Javadi was distracted by Saul, one lone perfect shot, got him between the eyes, Javadi went limp and Danny ran for safety.

  
_Thank god Quinn got him._

Saul moved to the heap that was Javadi and confirmed he was dead. He bent down to retrieve the leather saddle bags filled with the stolen money, and all the land deeds. As he opened the saddle bags suddenly out of the brush a team of six surround Saul, horror filled Carrie's heart.  In a moment shots rang out, two of Javadi's men fell, but not before she saw Saul's hat fall and she knew he'd been hit.  The rest of Javadi's gang took off with the loot, but she didn't care about that now... she flew off her pony, she was screaming, yelling, she was undone.  She ran over and pulled him into her lap.  There was so much blood colored snow.  Quinn was shouting instructions and everyone else was chasing the remaining gang members.  In the chaos, Carrie saw Quinn was ripping someone's shirt into strips trying to apply pressure, but there was too much blood. Saul unable to speak, reached into his jacket and pulled out their homestead deed and pressed it into her hand.

*Stay with me Saul, I'm going to get you home. You and I, we will do this together. It isn't over yet. Listen to me, I need you to stay with me.

A faint smile crossed his face and he went limp. Carrie couldn't be comforted.  She couldn't lose anyone else.  She won't allow it.  It couldn't be true.  There was so much she never told him.  He never knew about Frannie, he never held her in his arms.  She never said "thank you."  Darkness seemed to cover her, it was as if everything slowed down and she felt herself spiral downward. In the snowy, bare landscape of Gregory Gulch, Carrie lost a part of herself.  Quinn wrapped her up in his arms and let her scream.

**********

At the graveside service by the church later that week, Quinn looked over the crowd and saw Carrie in black, holding a little bundle in her arms and the sight of it took his breath away. Of course, Maggie had come back from Denver and she brought Frannie with her. In the crowd he heard whispers that Frannie was a family cousin who had recently been orphaned.

During the heartfelt service Danny teared up in his prayer.  Dar looked sick and Lockhart was contrite in spirit. After the service, Quinn waited until most of the town had given their condolences to Carrie and Maggie, before he wandered over.  After a brief hug, he pulled her aside.

*I'm sorry Carrie, I should have done more to....

*No, the gulch was obviously a trap.

*We should have had more man power.

*We were f*ing played.

Frannie started to fussed.

*Can I hold her?

*You want to?

*Yeah.

Carrie passed him the squirming little bundle and she couldn't help but notice the light in his eyes and the goofy grin on his face.  He was rocking her gently back and forth, enraptured by her little face.

*She's so big, look at that hair!

Carrie was pretty sure she caught a little Frannie smile. God, it made what she had to say next so much harder.

*You said you still have contacts in New Mexico?

*Yeah.

*Use them, go after Javadi.  String up that Motherf*er, you understand?

*He's got four days start on me.

*But you can do it right?

*Yeah, but it will take awhile.

*Fine. Do it. For Saul.

*What about Frannie?

He snuggled her closer.

*I really f*ed it up, Saul never got to meet her. I can't.... waste....

Quinn understood with a nod.

*I'm glad Carrie.  Saul knew you were made of tough stuff.  He would be proud.

*Do you really think so?

*Yeah.

Quinn gave Carrie a half measured smile and looked beyond to the horizon. After a moment he bend down, kissed Frannie's forehead and passed her back to Carrie.

*I'll have to go dark.

*I'll take care of Dar. But Quinn..

*Yeah.

*Come back.

Her words of concern for him, made his heart catch in his throat.  There was still such tenderness there.  Would it always be there?

His face was both serious and heartbroken, as he touched her shoulder and walked off to disappear into the winter forest. Carrie was left feeling numb, wishing she would have kissed him good-bye, one last time.

 

 


	10. In your best suit

May 29, 1863  
  
Summer was almost here, the sun was high in a perfectly clear, blue sky as the county fair began. People came from neighboring towns to see the livestock, quilts, baked goods, and preserves.  All around the fair were rows and rows of booths selling tin ware, candy, medicine, candles, and imported fruit from the East. Carrie was dressed in her Sunday best holding a pump Frannie in her arms, while they looked at the many displays of quilts and needlework.  Together they walked and took in the judging tables for vegetables, with displays of pumpkins, potatoes, turnips, peas and carrots. Frannie was squirming as they walked to the pie judging tables.  There were rows of strawberry pies, vinegar pies, apple pies, custard pies, and pumpkin pies.  A women with a warm face, handed Carrie a slice of dried berry pie. Carrie put Frannie down for a moment, to try the slice of dark purple pie, but when she turned around, her baby was gone. She had just learning to crawl, how could Carrie have lost her?  
  
She searched frantically, fear filled her gut. As she scanned the town folks Carrie saw her red locks and her blue sunbonnet in someones arms. Carrie moved closer and out of the crowd he came into focus.  Just like she remembered him.  He was holding her in his Sunday best. Damn, she missed seeing him in his great, dark tailored suit that fit like a glove and his best black hat. To most folks in town he was just another lawman out in this wild country, but to her, he held all her secrets and she held all of his.  
_Wasn't he her f*ing midwife?_  
Watching him tickle Frannie, made something inside her heart ache at the realization of just how much she had missed him these last few months. Their eyes met and he gave a her a smile that reached all the way to his eyes.  He started towards her and he was so full of swagger, she immediately knew his mission was successful.  
  
*I see you found her.  
  
*Yes, what a big girl you are!  
  
Frannie was drooling all over his shirt.  Her round, squishy fingers tried to pull on Quinn's hat.  His eyes shone down on her,  
  
*You going to grow up to be fearless like your mother?  
  
Frannie giggled back at him.  
Carrie cut in.  
  
*Hey, I'm here to!  
  
There were smiles all around, and in a moment they were walking in step towards the livestock area.  It was as if no time had passed.  Carrie snuck a sideways glance and caught him smelling the top of Frannie's head.

 _He was such a sucker for babies._  
They strolled around the fair and looked at the new young calves, oxen, foals and baby goats.  It was late afternoon and Frannie was getting tired.  They ran into Mira, and she offered to walk her home for a late day nap.  In front of a pen of sweet young lambs Quinn turned to Carrie and declared,

*Miss Matheson, would you like to go for a buggy ride?

Carrie laughed at his formal question.  With a shy smile she replied,

*Sure.

In his buggy they rode westward towards the hills, as the shadows grew long.

*So is it done?

*Yup, we are bulletproof on this.

*Good. Where the Comanche helpful?

*Yeah.

There was a comfortable silence.

*It was fun to see you with Frannie today.

*She has gotten so big.  I saw her first tooth coming in.

She looked over and there was a softness in his face.  He was more relaxed than she had ever seen him. He stopped the buggy at the lookout over the valley. The warm wind was blowing and for a moment Quinn felt hope was in the air. Slowly he turned to sneak a little peak of her.  She looked happier than he had remembered. They silently watched the sky turn crimson, then pink and peach and finally a deep indigo. As the sun set over the great Western expanse, she gently leaned against his shoulder.  They were tentative and careful.  He tenderly placed his arm around her.  They sat in the silence, there was so much to say, but they both were afraid to destroy the moment.  Maybe some things were better left unsaid. The air started to turn cool, so he flicked the reins over the horses and drove them back to town. At the edge of clearing to the town square, Quinn stopped the horses. He jumped down and helped her out of the buggy.

*Thanks for the drive and..... everything else.

*Of course.

*Good night.

She started walking back to Langley at the hitching post, without thinking he whispered,

*Carrie, I.....

Instinctively, she turned around and before the next words left his mouth, she pressed herself against him and covered his mouth with hers. Surprise melted into gratitude. Under the summer stars, they kissed up against his buggy, wordlessly expressing how much they had missed each other. Breathlessly Quinn pulled away and whispered into Carrie's ear,

*Come with me to California.

_Please, let's start again._

* We could get out together.  I don't want to do it alone.

 _I can't do it on my own, I've learned that_.

*We could go to Sacramento, or San Francisco, we could see the Pacific Ocean.

He watched the night breeze make her pale hair dance in the moonlight.  She was so beautiful it made his chest ache.  
But for Carrie, anxiety filled her heart. Panic clouded her vision.

* I have my mining contracts and mineral rights claims here, I can't just leave. I need to fight .... to get my mineral rights claims back from Javadi.

*Like you really care about that.

*Saul would want me to.

Carrie paused because it was more than just that.

_I'm just figuring out how to a mother, I'm not sure I'm really made to be a wife too. I have problems, my manic moments, my independent nature. You deserve someone who will adore you, support you, mend your socks, sew you perfect button holes, bake your bread and keep house for you. Someone to give you everything you want. That isn't me._

*Quinn I can't. I'm no good for you or anyone else for that matter.

_That's not true Carrie, but I can't make you do anything you don't want to._

*Well if that's how you feel....

He turned his head away, pretending the grief inside didn't exist. He started to walk away, rejection clouded his face. He didn't want her to see how vulnerable he really was.  
Carrie reached out, caught his arm and spun him around.

*Quinn maybe we can talk about it when I get back from seeing Maggie.....

*I may not be back Carrie.

He paused. Surprise covered her face.

*They are looking for sharpshooters to join a special regiment in the Union Army.  Lincoln himself approved the company to take out high value assets, sometimes behind enemy lines.

She was getting mad now, her voice was raising. Her hands were balled into fists and her face filled with an angry color.

*Don't Quinn.  It's too dangerous.

*Someone has to stand up for innocent people. I can't sit here and pretend this country isn't at war.

*Forever a patriot, the abolitionist!  
She was so furious, he saw heat coming into her face and she was ready to explode.

*I have to do this Carrie.

*Why? For who?

*For Mr. Estes....

_If I can't escape to California with you, then I might as well give my life to save our country, to end slavery. At least give Frannie a future._

*You don't have to do this.  
Her face flamed in anger that he would even consider this.  
*Why did you come back then, if you were just going to leave?

*I didn't trust Dennis at the post office. I wanted to say this, in person... to see if you had changed your mind.

 _Please just run away with me Carrie, we could do this together._  
Will he ever have the words to convey all that this means to him?

*Fine, go die like everyone else, just don't expect me to be waiting for you.

Her words cut deeper than a knife, they would ring in each others ears for years to come.

Fury made a red haze before her eyes. She swung around and stomped back to Langley without even a second glance. She mounted up and rode as fast as she could away, away from all the pain, away from another goodbye.

 **********  
  
Early the next morning with red rimmed eyes, she left the back porch and picked up her milking pail.  Looking down, in the pail she saw a brown paper package.  An ache filled her soul. As she untied the twine and heavy wrapping, she discovered two matching navy blue and white teacups and saucers. The beautiful cups had a delicate pattern of roses and birds on them.  
_Why teacups?_  
Then she remembered their first campfire together, her dress was torn and he apologized for having to share a tin cup.  
Something inside of her broke. She tried not to think about the fact he rode across an entire state to ask her to start a new life, only to have him leave to join a war. A war, that was tearing apart this country that they both loved so much.  
  
They had fought about a lot of things over the years, but now after hate, and anger, there only came sadness.  As the sun rose in the east, she knew he didn't want to leave on a bitter note.  This was his apology, this was his last goodbye.

 


	11. Sewn into his vest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The American Civil War- This takes place in the last half of the Civil War, as the Southern Rebels under General Lee try to secede, while the Union North under General Grant and Lincoln try to stop them. Quinn has gone off to join the Union Army, in part to end slavery for Mr. Estes who loved him unconditionally when Quinn was a boy, and in part because Carrie refused to run off to California with him.

June 1, 1863  
  
After joining the 1st US sharpshooter infantry regiment K, Quinn showed them his cool nerves, excellent vision and unparalleled ability to anticipate the path of the shot at long distances.  In the Union Camp of Instruction, in Washington off of West 7th Street, Quinn greased his new Sharps repeating rifle and brushed out his dark green overcoat.  As a sharpshooter he didn't wear the Union blue instead the dark green coat allowed him to hide better in the woods.  His new coat also was void of brass buttons for the same reason.  
  
He was commissioned with a small handful of men, to work in the shadows, silently staking their targets.  Deep under his overcoat and jacket was neatly sewn into his vest lining, a letter and a gold ring, should he not come home. If captured by Confederate troops he would surely be executed, as sharpshooters posed enormous threat. Rob, his new sharpshooter buddy promised to deliver his letter if needed. He prayed it would never have to come to that.  After his commission, he was immediately sent to join 2nd South Carolina Volunteers.  He was assigned to a covert mission on the Combahee River in South Carolina.  
  
********  
  
As darkness fell, the warm southern night was full of the hum of insects buzzing.  On the riverbank they fought off mosquitoes as their night raid was coming together. A little black man in field clothes and a rifle on his back moved among the officers giving directions to this all black regiment.  
  
*After I give the signal, slaves will board the boats and I need all you men to burn storehouses, fields and barns.  
  
*Yes, Moses.  
  
*Our goal is not loss of life, but loss of supplies. This is how we stop the supply lines to the Rebels.  
  
*Yes ma'am  
  
*We already have a network of spies down here, so trust me, we must be patient if we are to have the element of surprise.  
  
*Understood.  
  
Quinn turned to Rob and asked  
*Who the hell is leading this thing?  
  
*Moses, haven't you heard of her?  
  
*Her?  
  
*Tubman, she has been a conductor in the Underground Railroad for a decade.  
  
*F* me.  
  
*Believe me, she's the tiniest bad ass you've ever seen!  
  
Quinn would replay that night again and again.  From his sniper nest, he watched the three small navy ships move down the the river, where subsequently three  plantations were burned. He watched over 750 slaves escape to freedom on those boats and he watched the first women ever to lead to Union troops.  Undercover, she was commanding, fearless, ruthless and in control.  She reminded him of another spy he knew.  Moses was the most amazing bad ass, spy, and scout he had ever known and he was proud to be on her side.  
  
The next day as the ferry boats unloaded newly freed salves, Moses caught Quinn starting at a quilt one young man was holding.  
  
*You know what this is, don't you?  
Quinn was surprised she read his thoughts.  
  
*It's a map, it's instructions.  
  
*You've used it before, haven't you?  
  
*A long time ago.  
  
*Then you know what this war means.  
Quinn only silently nodded.  
The tiny lady, then pulled something from her coat.  
*Then I know I can trust you with this.  
She handed him a small scrap of paper.  
*This message is only for one man, destroy the contents of it, if anyone else comes near it.  
  
*Who am I looking for?  
  
*Allen, he's at the Capitol.  Tell him it's from me.  
  
*How will I find him?  
  
*You'll know, his last name is Pinkerton.  He is heading up the Union Intelligence Office.  Chances are with your shooting skills and security work in Colorado, he already knows about you.  
  
Quinn was stunned by her knowledge.  
  
*I asked for the best for this mission and they sent me you.  I hear tell you speak Comanche.  
  
*Yes ma'am.  
  
*You'll be useful to Pinkerton, of that I'm sure.  God's speed friend.  
  
Quinn stuffed the paper into a hollowed out heel of his boot and hurried off. He never saw Moses again, but looking back, he credited her for saving his life.  Becoming a courier, operative and scout for Pinkerton moved him away from the front lines and deeper into espionage.  It too was risky but not as risky as taking artillery fire in a wide open cornfield.  He shadowed suspected spies, he ran correspondence and encrypted messages around the Capitol.  As time when on, Pinkerton trusted him to do surveillance in the Confederate capital of Richmond, Virginia. He spent a year in the shadows and he left no trace.  
  
  
July 8, 1864  
  
Whenever Washington received rainfall, the air was thick and muggy, pressing over the city like a wet, woolen blanket.  Why the forefathers of this country had chosen to build the capital on a swamp, he would never understand. Quinn moved in and out of the Capitol often these days, relaying troop moments but slowly fear creep into his mind.  The forts surrounding the city were being manned by fewer and fewer men.  General Grant had been moving more and more troops out of Washington and into Virginia to build up his numbers in Richmond.  Quinn feared Lee would catch wind of this and try to take the Union capital and Lincoln himself.  Quinn shuttered to think of outright rebel forces in the city, storming the Treasury, and burning Washington. Looking at the latest reports from the South, Quinn's fears for Washington were realized.  A Confederate brigade was spotted moving up the Shenandoah Valley.  
  
His heart was pounding as he rode out to Maryland to alert General Wallace and the Union troops there.  General Grant was sent word, but there was no time.  Grant promised to send more troops, but they wouldn't arrive for days.  
  
***********  
July 9, 1864  
  
Quinn was back in his green uniform, sitting up in the second story window of the Thomas family farmhouse. The sun wasn't yet up on that Saturday morning, but it was already muggy and humid.  At 4 am Quinn watched Confederate troops roll out cannons onto the front lawn of Best farms next door.  Anxiety filled his soul, as he counted twenty-four Rebel cannons, to the Union's six.  This was the rolling farmlands just outside of Washington, but it would be here where the Capitol would either stand or fall.  
  
The Union had mostly just an improvised army, local militia men, a last minute smattering of men. As the sun rose and light filled the sky, Quinn overlooked the troops on either side and realizes the Union was out manned at least two to one, maybe even three to one .  Local farmers had moved their horses into the hills and families had fled or were in hiding.  Quinn knew that Union forces couldn't defeat Early's troops, but their goal was to stop them from crossing the Monocacy River, keep the roads to Washington secure for as long as possible, buy Grant time to get reinforcements into the Capitol.  
  
The wheat was cut and the corn was waist high, as the sun rose higher that morning and division after division began marching towards the river. There was no cover, just cornfields, there was no where to hide. He heard the clatter of gun carriages and the fervent thud of drums.  The fine china quivered in the hutch downstairs, as the cannons went off.  In the farmhouse, high over the battlefield Quinn had the horrifying view of rows and rows of soldiers marching across the fields to their deaths.  Across the smoke infested fields came a brown swarm of men running, Quinn felt sick as he watched the battle lines draw near, shooting became point black and the fighting, hand to hand. If the rifle shots and cannon fire didn't get them, the bayonets would.  
  
From the upstairs windows, sharpshooters rotated through taking down the cannon firing teams and Confederate officers on horseback. Quinn knelt on one knee, his right shoulder absorbed the impact of the rifle's discharge, just has it had thousands of times before.  He felt he had already done this dance too many times. Constantly reloading, they swapped out rifles when the barrels got too hot.   The thunder of cannon fire was endless, gunshots and the splintering of glass were heard as every window in that farmhouse was shot out. The day wore on, but the Confederates keep coming. A full division came marching their way across the cornfield closest to the farmhouse.  The fighting was fierce and hot, but they couldn't hold them back forever.  
  
*Sh* they can't hold the line.  
  
There was a burning roar in his ears, the Rebels were getting too close, they were in danger of the farmhouse being surrounded.  They gathered their knapsacks of supplies and under the thick smoke of cannon fire they retreated. Now retreating was no easy matter as there was very little cover. His group moved behind a stone wall and reloaded.  
  
_We have to get to the stone railroad bridge._  
_We have to get to that grove of trees beyond the bridge._  
_We can't get stranded behind enemy lines. Not today. They have already burned the wooden bridge, we have to make it to the stone one, it's the only one left ._  
_I have to make it for her._  
  
As they heard the Rebels stop to reload, they ran for it. Their boots thrummed over the railroad tracks of the Monocacy bridge, as heavy fire came down.  
  
On the other side of the bridge, Quinn was never so happy to see a bunch of leafy oak trees. His small band of marksmen, took cover under the trees, climbing up several tree branches, they picked off any Rebel soldiers daring to cross the bridge.  As the sun set, they protected the Union retreat until about 6 pm when the rebels were forced to camp on the battlefield.  They had bought Grant another full day, allowing reinforcements to flood Washington.  
  
Two days later the Rebels reached Fort Stevens, they were close enough to see the dome of the Capitol Building.  Rumors spread that the battle was close enough for Lincoln himself to watch from a window of the White House.  But in a peach tree orchard just outside of Fort Stevens the Rebels were forced to retreat. Little did they know, this would be the last time the South would penetrate the Northern Territory.  
Defending that lone stone bridge, they had fought against time and they won. History would credit the Battle at Monocacy for saving Washington DC.  
  
As Union troops regrouped outside the Capitol, Quinn visited a beautiful little bookstore in the city and bought something for her.  
  
December 1864  
  
Pinkerton was out as the Union Intelligence Commander and Baker was his replacement. Quinn didn't trust Baker and his violent reputation, so he opted to stay with his regiment that winter, but that didn't stop his intelligence work. He was now under sharpshooter Captain James Stuart.  Captain Stuart trusted Quinn and over time had him run messages between the Generals.  
  
*You are too bright to just be pulling a trigger. I heard you were once worked with Pinkerton.  
  
*Yes, sir.  
  
*I also hear you have very good tracking skills, I take it you have spent some time out West.  
  
*Yes, sir.  
  
*I need you to do some scouting work for me, maybe deliver some messages, messages only Indians could understand.  
Quinn tried not to react.  
*Don't worry Lieutenant, I believe your language skills, your Indian knowledge may just save this country.  
  
He was promoted to 2nd Lieutenant of his company. He used his language skills to hand deliver messages behind the lines. He did this until the snow became too thick and he was forced to stay in camp. At the Union camp in Petersburg, a thread of canvas tents stretched as far as he could see.  Curls of black smoke spiraled towards the sky as campfires burned and the smell of grease filled the air. The siege at Petersburg under General Grant was a strategic tool, to fix the South in place, they were pinning General Lee down. It was a waiting game, if Petersburg fell, then Richmond the southern capital was doomed.  
  
The winter was bitter that year, freezing winds howled and snow piled high into drifts.  He prayed for her on her second birthday. He always prayed for Frannie on her birthday, wondering how she was going to celebrate it.  

_Was she was big enough to have a cake, or ride a pony with her mom, or feed the chickens?_

He was haunted by the images of the aftermath of war, the endless fields of bodies, horses, old cartridge boxes, canteens and shell casings. His head hurt a lot from the endless artillery fire. It wasn't just the cannon fire, he often wondered what she was doing in Colorado. He filled the long hours stuck in the trenches reading, wondering how she was. Life felt so cold without her. There was a hollowness inside of him, that made him feel like he was drifting.  He often thought about what an excellent Union courier she could have been, hiding letters in her skirts or encrypting messages on scrapes of ribbon, coiled up tightly in her hair.  She would have been an even better intelligence scout.  No doubt Carrie could have charmed her way past patrols and memorized maps laying about at southern dinner parties. 

He missed her company on long stake outs, he missed their fights, he missed her fire, he missed her determination.  Maybe absence did make the heart grow fonder. 

_Did she miss him?_    

He wanted to reach out to her, but there might as well have been an ocean between them.

He didn't trust the mail carriers and Carrie didn't know his regiment. 

  
_Even if I did, what would I say?_  
_Was he even alive?_

  
The more she read from the East, the more his fate seemed sealed. Carrie didn't trust Dar to disclose Quinn's Union missions.  Carrie and Dar suffered from bad blood after she had poached Quinn away to go after Javadi.  So instead, time dragged on in silence.

He tried to lay down to get some much needed rest, but sleep didn't come. Every time he closed his eyes he could see row and rows of bodies, their sacrifice seemed to engulf the earth.  Unable to sleep, Quinn got up and filled the coffee pot with water and hung it over the coals of the campfire. In the beginning he had pictured fighting for a cause that would allow real freedom for everyone, but now it felt like hope was just a dream. Reality was filled with the horrors and pain of war. He had been gone so long, he ached to go back, he longed for a chance to see her again, to start fresh.  Months dragged on, waiting for something to happen.

April 2, 1865

Quinn hardly slept the night before, a sober stillness lay over the camp, as the dawn would surely bring death to many young men.  After being stuck in this f*ing siege for so long, today was the day of action. 

_Will I survive today?_

He wasn't sure.  He read the letter one last time before putting it in his vest lining and prayed for the strength to make it home.  _Home to her._   This was the day they were to break the siege under Grant.

_Will I live to see another sunset?_

He wished he would.

It was a day that haunted him for a long time.  So many things could have gone wrong, but Providence was gracious.  His sharpshooter team under Captain Stewart was assigned to the 49th Pennsylvania Infantry Regiment.  Armed with new scopes on their repeating rifles they hid up in the last of the standing trees. As dawn broke they worked to pick off the cannon crews. Quinn and his team were able to silence the three cannon defense of the moat.

With the defenses down, the charge was called, the 10 year old drummer boy beat out the advantage on his drum. Rows and rows of the Union infantry had the terrifying job of crossing the "no mans land" marching straight for the Confederate earthworks and cannons.  Several regiments from Rhode Island, ran towards the line, quickly moving across the moat.  They climbed up the exterior slope to the top of the earthworks before the Confederates could reload and fire, causing the Confederates to retreat from the onrushing Rhode Islanders.  They captured six Confederate cannons.  

With the cannons captured, Quinn and the other sharpshooters quickly moved within the ranks, taking aim at officers. They were buried in the gun smoke, which choked their throats. In the noise and general chaos they had to run the farthest distance to the earthworks, crossed the moat and then found themselves on the Confederate lines.  As he scaled the muddy mound, he mentally prepared for hand to hand combat and the the reality that he might not ever come out.  What he found at the top of that trench, took his breath away.. it was empty.  The Confederates were in full retreat. Quinn's brigade was the only one who did not have to fight hand to hand to overcome the Rebels.  Quinn stood in the abandoned enemy trenches, and whispered,

*F* me.

He knew this was the beginning of the bitter end. He fingered the lining of his vest pocket, feeling for that same ring. He was coming home to her.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical notes: I had to include Harriet Tubman, she was a Union spy and scout, along with her work on the Underground Railroad. Her life of bravery, intelligence and self-sacrifice is truly astounding. Her service to the Union was so invaluable that several soldiers testified that she was entitled to a pension from the government. Among all her missions to rescue slaves, she never lost a life.


	12. Something you should know about

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quick recap, remember Brody died long ago, Quinn delivered baby Frannie in a snowstorm, Saul has died and Carrie and Quinn haven't spoken or seen each other in two years. Come find out what Carrie has been up to. Enjoy!

May 27, 1865  
  
Inside it was warm and smelled sweet, the upstairs parlor had a beautiful flowered carpet on a shining wood floor. There was a mahogany highboy in the corner and an impressive teak desk, with two amber colored kerosene lamps. On the linen covered table lay out a silver tea set with fresh beignets covered in imported powdered sugar.  
  
* Good to see you back in town.  
  
* It's good to be here, the beignets are very good sir.  
  
*Shame you can't get a good croissant in a thousand miles.  I have to settle for this or some rustic doughnuts.  Pathetic food out here.  
  
*Sorry sir.  
  
Dar careful slipped his tea.  
  
* Well this f*ing war is finally over! The railroad is coming Peter, and with it, cattlemen are swarming to use the railroad to transport their beef to market. Some of the biggest names in cattle are here now.  
  
*Like who?  
  
* Otto During, the biggest cattle rancher in the West.  
  
Quinn raised an eyebrow.  
  
*I need you to keep an eye on him. There is bound to be trouble with him and Chief Khan over grazing land. Haqqani is Otto's clean up man. He's not to be crossed Quinn.  Otto didn't become this powerful by smoking a peace pipe.  
  
*Got it.  
  
* All I care about is getting this f*ing railroad built to keep my Pacific Union investors happy. Help me complete this project and you'll get a nice kick back.  
  
*Yes sir.  
  
*Now, you should also know that Haqqani and Otto are running a slave operation out on the cattle ranch and quarry, mostly because there is still money in it.  Of course Lockhart just about lost his sh* when he found out.  You've never seen a bigger white man upset by the whole thing but legally he can't do much out here in the territory.  
  
*I see.  
  
* I just want to make sure you don't get yourself caught in the cross hairs of Haqqani.  He's ruthless, you understand?  
  
*Yes sir.  
  
* Now there was an ambush awhile back you should know about....  
  
* ** * * *  
  
Quinn inhaled the crisp, pungent evergreen breeze deeply, the mountain air was thin, but it was so fresh.  He missed the smell of the Rockies, the smell of home.  He walked back to the livery stables to hitch up Ford, when Quinn saw the golden hair of a beautiful tall women dressed in deep purple silk, a black velvet flounce and matching velvet hat. She is absolutely gorgeous, even more beautiful than he remembered.  
Their eyes met and he motioned her over to the alley behind the feed store.  
They stared into each others blue eyes for a moment.  
  
*You in town for awhile?  
  
*Yeah.  
  
*You?  
  
*For the time being, unfortunately.  
  
*Really?  
  
*What do you want Peter?  
  
*Information.  
  
*Well, your girlfriend got Otto out of an ambush a few weeks ago.  
  
*So I heard.  
  
He leaned in closer and whispered,  
  
*You want to get out of here?  
  
She tilted her head to one side.  
  
*You know I can't do that.  Your girlfriend saved my husbands' life, I doubt either one would appreciate it.  
  
She smiled mischievously.  
  
*And Peter, one other thing, Carrie is Mrs. Hollander now.  
  
*F* me.  
  
*It's a little late for that now.  
  
***********  
  
Well, that was a dreadful surprise which required more research.  Quinn watched a man, tall, lean, with flat heeled eastern boots walk down Main Street.  He had a smooth shaven face, with a rather dull, lost lamb countenance. If ever a man had gone out of his way to advertise himself as a tenderfoot, this was it. The kicker was, when he removed his hat to walk into the little law office, run by Otto, his red hair glowed in the afternoon light.  
  
Of course Jonas would have ginger hair, less gossip for Frannie.  F* Carrie had really gone and done it. I guess he kind of deserved it, he had been gone almost two years.  
  
*********  
  
The water was still quite icy as Frannie  and Carrie went down to the creek to do the laundry.  Carrie carried her washtub and washboard, while Frannie pranced ahead, her unruly ginger curls bouncing.   Under the leafy trees she got to work. The slimy brown soap, slipped in her hands and her mind wandered to how limited and narrow her life as a wife had become.  The man's world was so much broader, with so much more action.  Her own world seemed to only be shrinking. She felt like every day a little more of herself was suffocating.  She missed Saul, she missed working undercover, she missed the hunt, she missed the thrill.   She longed for more purpose, for more adventure, for more freedom.  Suddenly, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end.  She got the sense someone was watching her.  Her blood ran cold and in one quick motion she swung around with her washboard and knocked the perpetrator out cold. With trembling hands she rolled over the unconscious man and at the sight of his face, she almost fell over.  
  
*Motherf*cker!  
  
Her mind was a swirl of confusion.  
  
_He was alive.  He was here.  Why?_  
  
Suddenly guilt gripped her heart.  
  
_What if someone had seen him?  They couldn't be seen like this, not here... Carrie was someone's wife now, what would the town folk think?_  
  
Panic filled her gut and she instinctively knew she had to hide him... _but where?_   There was only one place nearby, so using an old quilt she dragged him inside, all the while warning Frannie to stay just outside the door and pick berries.  
  
_What was she doing?  What was he doing?  Was he upset she never wrote?  Why didn't he write? Was he dangerous?_  
  
She couldn't take chances, she had heard of the madness that overtook men after experiencing too much war.  Carefully with an old shirt she bound his feet and his hands to the mill stone. In the space of a breath, a memory sunk deep inside of her and rose to the surface. Carrie remembered this place for the afternoons they spent here, she could almost smell those first blackberries. So many memories, before Frannie, before a war, before so much time had passed.  
  
She looked down at him tied up to the old mill stone, and she remembered every angle of his face, the way his hair looked as the filtered sunlight came through the thatched roof.  Her eyes lingered on his razor cheekbones, and his arms sculptured beneath the sleeves of his shirt. He was as beautiful as ever, with a few more lines across his forehead and around his eyes.  Secretly she wondering if his body bore a few more scars from two years of war.  She dare not let her mind wander.  
  
He opened his eyes, and out of the blackness, she was there, standing motionless.  
  
*F* Carrie, untie me.  
  
*No.  



	13. The blackberries are still sweet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where are we now? Carrie and Quinn have just met for the first time in two years. Carrie got him with a washboard and he is now tied up to the millstone, in the old abandoned mill. Quinn has been serving in the Civil War, Carrie has been raising Frannie, they are both haunted by the past, their past together. Oh, yeah and Carrie is Mrs. Hollander now. Thanks for hanging in there.. it's getting good!

May 28, 1865  
  
*Why are you here?  
  
She questioned him and moved forward. His eyes become more adjusted to the light and he realized where he was.  
  
_Oh sh* this was the old mill._  
  
An avalanche of memories came back, most of them without clothes on. His mind was taken back to their afternoons here, when Carrie was hiding her pregnancy and he was hiding his heart. As she moved closer, her presence sent his pulse racing. He could hardly believe this was real, but something was wrong.  
  
*What are you wearing?  
  
*You don't like my red calico dress?  
Her slight smile was cold and cynical.  
  
*No, it's not that, are you wearing hoops!?  
  
*Yeah, well Jonas likes it.  
  
* Well... you look like somebody else.  
  
* What is that suppose to mean?  
  
*The Carrie I knew, would never.....  
  
*Well, I'm not that girl anymore Quinn.  
  
_Wow, that stung all the way around._ Here she is, after all this time.  There was a time when the space between them was open, caring, trusting, dare he believe real.  Now he was met with cold indifference, closed and complex. Too much time had passed.  Still he pressed her further.  
  
*But you still have your hope chest buried under the tree.  
  
*What ... you checked?  
  
*Of course.  
  
* Just because I haven't bothered to dig that up doesn't mean I'm not happy.  
  
*Right. You still have your fall back plan.  
Quinn said sarcastically, his boyish grin appeared.  
_He meant "their" fall back plan, he meant "their" tree, with their teenage initials carved in it. Sh* she had different initials now._  
  
*It doesn't matter now Quinn.  
  
Doesn't matter because she is keeping house for someone else. She can't even bring herself to say the words, maybe because it feels like a betrayal.  Carrie doesn't know what to say, but Quinn wants to dive deeper.  
_  
There is so much he wants to tell her, the bravery he saw these last few years and truth and ugliness of war.  Of being a killing machine and that fact that she and Frannie were the only things keeping him sane.  That he had to keep his humanity for them.  In the end, he had to survive to return to them.  Was there really no hope that things could change?_ He pushed her on matters of conscious, to prick her heart.  
  
*You know Otto is exploiting people to expand his business and his cattle ranching.  
  
*So, what does that have to do with me?  
  
*You could change that.  
  
She felt like she couldn't change anything in her life.  
  
*So you think, Jonas is a part of that?  
  
Carrie was getting edgy and defensive.  She moved closer, she was almost on top of him.  In one quick motion she cut him loose, but he stayed motionless.  
  
*It's hard not see the slaves he is using on the ranch and in the quarry Carrie, let alone taking over Ute tribal lands.  
  
*I can't save everyone Quinn.  
  
*You must see the damage Otto is doing?!  
  
*It's not my business.  
  
*Since when?  
  
*Like you get to have an opinion! You haven't been here, you decided shooting Rebels was more important....  
  
_Then what?  What was she going to say?_  
They both can't face the past.  There is nothing left but to leave.  He could barely look at her as he walked out of the mill.  
  
_Maybe this was all a mistake._  
  
Carrie suddenly moved to block his exit to the door and stared up into his face, forcing him to look back at her.  Something wasn't right, he could tell Carrie was not herself.  He looked into her face and saw such sorrow.  He felt something was profoundly wrong.  Old feelings of protecting her, were flooding back. He reached out and gently touched her arm.  
  
*He's not hurting you, is he?  
  
*Who?  
  
*Jonas?  
  
*No, not like that.  
  
*Then how?  
  
Way to cut to the chase.  
_What was this, full f*ing disclosure?_  
  
All that vulnerability after such a long time.  Carrie was taken aback.  
_  
Could she dare be honest with him? Could she be honest with herself?_  
  
She felt he could already read her heart, like she was stripped bare. She couldn't hide from him, she never could.  That was the danger of being known, there wasn't room for secrets.  She looked into his blue eyes, so blue they looked like chips of granite, and she was perfectly honest with him,  
  
*I don't know, I guess it's just daily life. The invisibility of being a wife and mother, the mundane and the boredom.  I miss the action and purpose.  
  
He nodded, quietly left the mill, and walked a few feet into the brush.  Carrie followed him.  He walked over to Ford and his saddle bags and pull something out.  
  
*Maybe this will help.  
  
He handed her the last two novels of "Great Expectations".  
  
*I thought you could use something new to read.  
  
She didn't know what to say.  Memories of Frannie's birth came surging back, memories of snowstorms and walking the stairs and hearing his voice reading to her. Those haunting times, of absolute trust and comfort.  She was touched by his thoughtfulness, her pride willed her to stop the tears from coming.  
  
*Thanks.  I don't know what to say.  
  
*Say you'll read them.  
  
*Of course. Yes.  
  
She fingered the pages and realized the worn copies likely kept Quinn company during some dark times.  She also realized he was one of the few people that appreciated and understood something of her brilliance.  In his eyes, she wasn't just someone's wife or mother, she was his equal, worthy of his respect and let's be real, his adoration.  Carrie couldn't help but smile with gratitude.  
  
*Oh, and one other thing I picked up.  
  
He pulled out a book of store bought paper dolls, obviously for Frannie.  
  
*It's too much Quinn.  
  
*Nah, already missed too many birthdays.  
  
Again, he was reminding her of Frannie's first day, of their one day together as a family.  An ache filled her soul. Quinn broke her melancholy thoughts with,  
  
*Why not leave town?  
  
Carrie understood the statement also implied that she leave Jonas as well.  
  
*Javidi still has the the mineral rights leases, I don't have an income without Jonas.  
  
If only he knew how bad things got. Since Quinn had left to join the Union Army, she was forced to sell the farmhouse and homestead to support herself. Marrying Jonas was in effect a way to save herself  from poverty. Ironically Jonas was quite frugal and he insisted they live very simply. Virgil often slipped her extra cornmeal, or found reason to pack extra salt pork in her basket. Carrie often looked longingly at the bolts and bolts of calico in the general store, wishing she could have a new dress. Max even saw Frannie at no charge. Her posse was still trying to support her in the wake of losing Saul, but she felt like she was losing herself.  
  
In her heart she knew she was invisible to Jonas. He neither saw nor appreciated her gifts. Loneliness haunted the corners of her life.  A bleakness had settled inside of her.  
_Was this what life really was?  What had she become?  She use to be so fearless, ruthless, powerful.  Where had that girl gone?  What had she given up for security and a home?_  
  
Quinn saw the heartache in her eyes, and nodded, understandingly.  
  
_She did what she had to do, to survive._  
  
He understood he had been gone too long.  They both felt so much remorse but couldn't bring themselves to share that much of the past.  Carrie walked down the dirt path to retrieve Frannie from the berry patch.  Quinn followed.  As Frannie stumbled back onto the path, her hands and dress were stained with blackberry juice.  Quinn bent down and removed his hat.  With an outstretched hand he said,  
  
*It's a pleasure to meet you Miss Frannie.  
  
Frannie smiled shyly and hid behind Carries' skirt.  
  
*Frannie, this a family friend, Mr. Quinn.  
  
*You won't happen to like berries would you?  
  
*Oh, yes!  
  
*And horses?  
  
*I want a baby pony, but Mama said "No"!  
  
*Hmmm.  
  
*Don't get any ideas Quinn.  
  
*I want a baby too.  
Frannie's burst out with.  
  
Quinn raised an eyebrow.  
_Please Carrie not another baby with someone else._  
  
*Frannie means she wants a baby DOLL.  
  
Carrie and Quinn exchange knowing glances and Carrie shook her head.  
_Thank god!_  
  
*Then I will have to be on the lookout for a rag doll, I guess.  
  
*Really, really Quinny!?  
  
In that moment Carrie was sure she watched Quinn melt a little.  
  
*You never know Frannie Bear.  
  
Now Carrie was going to be sick, they already had pet names.  
Frannie started prancing around singing about dolls and ponies. They were like two old friends, two peas in a pod. Carrie couldn't ignore their connection or the dimple in his cheek when he flashed Frannie a real smile.  
_Sh* she missed his smile._  
  
As Carrie turned to walk away with Frannie, Quinn stood up and met her eyes. He looked into her face, with eyes full of such pride and respect... for her. It had been so long since someone looked at her with admiration, that it almost made her cry.  At this first hint of attentive support, she melted and it only highlighted that void in her life. She was so thirsty for care, so undernourished of love, so depleted, that his slight blush of care, only contrasted with how truly uncherished she felt at home.  
  
*It's good to see you again Carrie.  
  
He gave her a smile, the kind that made his face beam. She couldn't even choke out "yes". With watery eyes she nodded and walked away.  
  
The last painful words she had yelled at him two years ago, rang in her ears.. "Fine go off and die like everyone else, just don't expect me to be waiting for you. "  
  
Down the dusty path she recognized that after feeling numb for so long, she had began to feel something.  
  
_Was it regret?  Hope? Fear? Was her loneliness evaporating?_  
  
Maybe she didn't want to find out.  Maybe somethings are better left unsaid.  
  
********  
  
Later in his room at Parvez's boarding house, Quinn stood over the fireplace and pulled out the letter, the letter that had been sewn into his army jacket. He read it one more time, remembering each line and then dropped it into the fire.  We watched as the letter burned, "Dear Carrie, I guess I'm done and we never happened."  The flames licked the edges of the paper and it soon turned to ashes. He might be able to burn some of the past, but he still kept that same gold ring in his vest pocket.  
  
**********  
  
Walking down the dusty streets, he realized the town had grown by several blocks, more miners had encamped around town and more railroad men were moving in every day.  It looked like more of a rough crowd these days. More greedy outcasts looking to get rich quick or follow the railroad money wherever it would take them. He saw faces of loneliness and despair and the bitter taste of disillusionment.  
  
He stopped in at the barber shop and paid fifty cents for a haircut and shave.  Listening to the voices of the shop he caught up on the town gossip, he was forever gathering intel.  Now that he had the lay of the land, he ready to show everyone who was still running things. He strolled down the scarred boardwalk along Main Street and walked into the same old Saloon.  Some things never change. He tipped his hat to Redmond who was cleaning and stacking shot glasses and swaggered up to the long bar.  
  
_Was that Carrie watching from the back door?_  
  
He couldn't tell for sure. Miss Martha ran up to him, to greet him first and whispered in his ear,  
  
*Thank god you are back. It's f*ing "Alice in Wonderland" here.  
  
Quinn smiled at her, proud of her reference to the new fantasy book, by Carroll.  Folks around here were finally listening to him and starting to read real literature.  
  
Peering in from the back door, Carrie watched as Redmond came around the bar to give him a one armed hug , Vigil slapped his back and Max gave him a real smile.  
_Returning war heros get all the praise. He might as well ride up on a white stallion like Prince Albert or something._  
  
Everyone wanted to buy him a drink, everyone wanted to shake his hand, it was all so disgusting to Carrie.  Frustration was building up inside.  
_Why was he still getting under her skin?_  
_Jealousy, envy, the fact he was living the life he wanted and she was weighted down with boring Jonas?_  
She didn't want to think about it too much.  Judge Lockhart was practically swooning as Carrie walked out of the Saloon without looking back.  
  
*********  
  
Of course late at night, she couldn't escape those old memories.  She often thought about Quinn's offer to marry her when she was pregnant with Frannie.  It was not just for appearances, she was sure of that now.  At the time she was so afraid of motherhood and the demands of keeping a home.  _But how different would her life be now?  She was already living that life now, wasn't she?_  
This was her "normal life" she wanted. Except she knew that Quinn would have never asked her to be anything other than herself.  Some how with Jonas, she felt like she was never good enough.  
  
Her life was mostly in their little cabin, a single room, with a wooden floor, stone fireplace and rough cut table. Frannie slept in a trundle bed next to their simple quilt covered bed.  
  
The house felt smaller and smaller and her place in the world was only shrinking.  Who she truly was, had to be hidden.  Hidden behind her hoop shirts and her sewing bees and her attempts at making fluffy biscuits.  Quinn didn't care a f* about any of that.  All the "what if's" haunted her at night.  She wondered if she had chosen the wrong life.  Maybe in another time and place, she could have had the freedom to use her greatest gifts, her intelligence and her intuition.  Tonight she didn't want to think about all those regrets anymore.  
  
She rolled over in their straw tick bed and started to finger Jonas's waistband of his long johns. Sleepy he said,  
  
*Not now Carrie. I'm saddle sore from surveying the grazing lands with Otto.  
  
*Come on. That was yesterday.  
  
_Such a tender foot_ , thought Carrie, _one day on a horse and he can't walk._  
_Pathetic._  
  
Jonas rolled over on this stomach and began to snore. Carrie stared up at the cabin roof. Didn't really matter anyway, sex between them was rather parched, awkward and difficult. Mostly she felt sorry for him, he was insecure about his failure to ever really get it right. There was never any hor d'oeuvres or a soup course, just about two minutes of the main course and never any dessert, at least not for Carrie. Maybe it wasn't all Jonas's fault. It was difficult to give yourself over to someone when you are thinking of somebody else. Wondering where they are, haunted by memories made in the autumn when secrets were everywhere and being together was thrilling.  
  
It wasn't surprising that after a year of marriage, she was not in "the family way". Probably for the best, Jonas wasn't really there for Frannie anyway. He never got up with Frannie at night when she was sick, they rarely played together. Carrie knew he never really looked at her anymore, he never filled her thoughts or haunted her at night. Maybe they both understood this was an arrangement of convenience. Carrie never spoke of her discontentment, except once when she had scarlet fever last winter. Apparently in her fit of fever she moaned and called out for Quinn, to take away the pain. When Jonas questioned her about it later she told him,  
  
*Quinn was an elderly midwife that helped to deliver Frannie in Denver.  
  
They never spoke of it again.  There was a lot not to talk about.  Carrie wondered how much longer she could pretend to ignore the truth.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical note: "Great Expectations" was first published in three volumes in 1861. I imagined it would have taken awhile before new books hit the western territories, so in this AU, I had Quinn pick up the last two volumes in Washington during the war. "Alice in Wonderland" was also a newly published book at this time.


	14. All the things I never said

June 9, 1965

 

 The sun was just rising in the eastern sky, bands of crimson and gold stretched out over the towering Rockie mountains.   The air was sweet with the smell of summer. The weather was getting warmer, her chickens were laying more eggs. Carrie carefully picked up her egg basket and took Frannie's little hand and began walking down towards their neighbor's cabin. Carrie dropped Frannie off with Roya, and when walked on to town carefully, with her basket of eggs to trade with Virgil at the store.  She took a short cut behind the Saloon and the livery barn.  Down the dark alley, she saw something, something out of place, suddenly she realized who it was and it made her gasp.

 *Astrid?

 The beautiful woman, wrapped in silk and delicate lace was stuffing a tiny black women into a wooden box.

 *Carrie, what the f*!?  You shouldn't' be here.

 *What are you doing?

 *You never saw anything.

*Like hell!

*Shhh!

Astrid grabbed her arm and shoved her against the barn wall.

*Listen Carrie, I'm trying to get this couple out.  Now either shut up or help.

Carrie was dumbstruck. She set her egg basket down and silently helped Astrid pack Harriett into a wooden crate with holes in it.  Astrid gave the little lady food wrapped in paper and a tin canteen.  Then they nailed the crate shut.  Then Astrid pulled out a simple dark colored dress from her carpet bag and motioned for Harriott's husband to come over.

*Thomas, go over to that horse stall and put this on, I hope it fits.

As Thomas slipped away, Carrie hissed,

*This is in insane Astrid.  I take it Otto doesn't know.

Astrid only gave Carrie the stink eye and rebuffed her with,

*And I take it Jonas doesn't know about Peter.

_Ouch, that hurt._

*We all do, what we have to do Carrie, so don't judge me.  Besides this has never failed me before.

*Before? Holy sh* Astrid how many times?

*Two dozen, at least.

Carrie's mouth dropped open.  
*Sh* Haqqani will show no mercy.

*Well, then pray he doesn't find the Walkers.

Thomas was back and Astrid completed his outfit with a large hat and gloves.

*Now keep quiet til you get to Denver, then ask for Miss Lesli, she will help you get to a safe house, understand?

*Yes'um.

Hensleigh, another ranch hand, appeared driving a wagon, and they loaded the crate into the back of the large hay cart, full of fresh cut alfalfa.  Hensleigh helped Thomas up onto the wagon seat, and together they both tipped their hats to Astrid and drove off, heading west.

Astrid and Carrie stood there in the barn, unable to say all the things they were thinking. Carrie could hardly believe Astrid the wealthiest women in the west, was smuggling her own husband's slaves out?!  Apparently dressed as women no less, in the middle of the morning.  _Sh* she was brave._

Sure technically slavery had ended, but this was Colorado Territory, it was not an official state, and slave labor was still being used in remote areas.  Carrie wondered how long this had been going on?  What was Astrid's motivation?  What would Otto's henchman Haquini do when he found out?

*This never happened, right?

*Of course, but Astrid why them?

*Because Otto would have sold their baby after it was born.

Carrie's heart was caught in her throat. Pain and anger crept into her soul. At the thought of losing Frannie and she understood the risks Astrid and the Walkers were willing to take.

Astrid moved closer and whispered,  
*And Carrie, if you want to really help, there is a list.  It's a list of all the slave transactions with names and dollar amounts.  If Lockhart had the list, things could change.  Jonas might have access to it.  Do you understand?

Carrie nodded.  She picked up her egg basket and hurried on.  As she walked away she realized Astrid with her cold, no nonsense exterior, just might be secretly, the most beloved and biggest bad ass of the whole wild west.

********

That afternoon thunderheads were rolling across the sky.  Quinn was washing out his clothes and bathing in the creek.  As uncivilized as the West was, nothing could ever bet the water here, cold and clear.  He was relieved to be back. His newly washed clothes were hanging neatly on a birch tree.   He was scrubbing one last pair of socks, in the waist high water, when he yelled out.

*You know, for being a spy, you make an awful racket coming through the woods.

Carrie peaked out from behind a chockberry bush.

*I was just trying to find you.  I didn't want to scare you. Hey, not all of us were raised by Comanches.

He turned around  to see her. His summer tan lines were obvious.

*Congratulations, you found me.  What do you want?

Her eyes met his, there was a fire, stubbornness and challenge in her eyes,

_That's the Carrie I know_. thought Quinn.

*Well...I'm assuming you know that Judge Lockhart is moving to try and stop Otto from continuing his slave trading?

*Yeah.

*Well, I found out that there is a list, which records all the slave trading and the money Otto has made from it.

*Sh*t Carrie, that is huge.

*I know, if Lockhart had the list as evidence against Otto for continuing to keep slaves after the Emancipation Proclamation..... 

*So many slave families could be free.

*But I need your help.

*Of course you do.

*I'm meeting up with Virgil to talk about it, behind the general store, coming?

 *I'll catch up.

*Because you don't have any clothes on.

*Come Mrs. Hollander, it's not polite company.

*Bulls* like you care about polite company.

*I'll see you there.

*Fine.

*And Carrie.

*Yeah.

*Try NOT to sound like a elephant when you want to spy on me bathing.  It's rather unbecoming.  If you wanted to see me naked, you could have just asked.

*Yeah f* you too.

She stomped off.  Equally annoyed and bothered that he had seen through her plans and that he found it necessary to rub it in her face that she was "Mrs. Hollander", such a low blow.  He could be so smug and infuriating.

She tried not to think about Quinn too much since he had been back.  At least now she had a purpose, to extract information from Jonas.  He was so dull, it could bring a person to tears.  Thankfully he wasn't smart enough to realize Carrie's intentions.  Of course a year and a half ago, she thought Jonas was charming, funny and stable.  Mostly he had the right hair color to match Frannie's, which was a plus.  There weren't a lot of redheads in the wild west, and he seemed well connected to the all powerful Otto, so what was there not to like?  But now almost a year into their marriage, Carrie was anything but impressed.  Jonas lived a simple, uncomplicated life, full of routine, with very little room for excitement, adventure or passion.  Carrie felt like she was slowly dying inside.

Maybe she and Jonas never had a chance because she had to rely on him to provide for her and her utter dependence on him chafed her bitterly. She was raw from it and she hated him for it.

Still this latest discovery of Otto's slave list gave Carrie more excitement and purpose than she had had in years.  It felt so good to be back in the hunt, strategizing and plotting, with her posse that she trusted so much.  It made her miss her uncover days with Saul . She wanted to be free again so much, it made her ache inside.

*******

Later behind the general store the three plotted ways to access the list without raising suspicions.  They talked awhile, but customers drew Virgil back into the store. Alone Quinn questioned her,

*So Carrie, you never said exactly how you plan to get this list from Jonas?

*I'll empowered him.

*You mean you'll play the good cop.

*You got a problem with that?

*No, as long as I get to be the bad cop.

*Is that even a question?

She couldn't help but have a goofy smile on her face. It felt good to be running another op together, even if it was on Carrie's hapless husband.  Neither one felt too guilty.  

Besides if Carrie wanted to help free slaves, Quinn wasn't going to stop her.  He was just thankful they were both on the same side.  He didn't want to be up again her brilliance or determination.

Dark clouds pile up overhead, and Quinn offered to give Carrie a ride home before the rains came.  They walked a few feet into the woods with Ford, away from the prying eyes of the town and then he pulled her up into his saddle with him.  She was sitting sidesaddle due to her hoops.  She tried to keep her balance, but found he had to press his arms around her to keep her on the horse. He leaned over and asked her,

*You OK?

She felt his lips against her hair. She could feel his warm breath on her left check.  She had not physically been this close to him in years.

 *Yeah.

Suddenly she felt years younger and familiar butterflies filled her stomach.  She relaxed into him and wordlessly, she covered his hands with her own, around the reins.  He responded by removing his riding gloves and running his left thumb over her hand.  She could barely breath.  She felt his hands rough with calluses, warm on her bare skin, erasing some of the old unspoken hurt.  Sitting in his lap, riding through the forest, she gently lay her head on his chest.  She felt wrapped up in his care.  It was as close as they could get to an embrace.  So many years had passed.  So much silence.  

_Maybe Quinn was right, maybe this was just a big Shakespearean tragedy._  

There was no way out of the consequences they had chosen.  Soon the rain started falling in big drops.  By the time, they approached the little bridge to the cabin, they were both soaking wet.  Carrie was pressed tightly against him, her hand slipped onto his thigh and a fire was lit inside of Quinn.  Heat ran up his back, despite the cold rain.  He was as vulnerable to her touch as ever. Quinn stopped his mustang short of the bridge. 

*I better drop you off here.

*Yeah.

But she didn't want to lose their connection quite yet.

*Why not come in for a cup of tea?  Frannie is with our neighbor Roya down the road.

*Better not.

He knew he was fast losing control, and he didn't trust himself.  
They were both thinking about the beautiful china blue tea cups and saucers. They were both haunted by that last good-bye and the open ended wish to escape to California together.

 She slid down off the horse, a little breathless.  She smiled a little, and then looked up into his eyes, trying to communicate all her sadness, remorse, pain, despair, and longing.  He gave her a knowing nod.

*and Carrie, if you find out anything....

She finished the sentence for him.  
*I'll hang out the red and white dishtowel.

He tried to suppress a smile.  Somethings never change. Of course, she remembered their old signal system, his mouth got a little dry at the thought of it.  In the rain, he turned Ford around, and rode back westward to town.  Carrie could only stand with the rain drops running down her face wondering where it all went so wrong. The sky seemed to be crying for them, or was it washing away the grief? Maybe they will never have words for the past, but for now she can only summon the courage to go face her "normal life" with Jonas and empower him to give her more information.  At least she still had an operation to run.

 

 


	15. What we will do for others

  
August 9, 1865  
  
Summer was in full force and the ethereal mountain ranges rose up against the pale azure sky. Riding up along the dusty ridge line Quinn could see Otto's huge cattle stockyards being built near the railroad line. There was a new stagecoach depot going in and Quinn could see where crews of railroad men and large horse teams, were cutting a raw slash straight through this wild country for the railroad.  Dar was right, the railroad was finally coming to Colorado and with it came change.  _Was it for the better?_   Quinn wasn't sure.  
  
He took a canter up to the new quarry road, which was supplying rock for the railroad.  The trail ran along the creek and he listened to the music of the water tumbling down the rocks from the spring.  Every now and then he heard the boom... boom... boom of another cluster of dynamite shots in the quarry.  He navigated the steep ribbon of switchback trails towards the quarry.  People like Otto were bringing change to the mountains, miners were gouging and blasting a path to riches, leaving an indelible mark.  Otto was exploiting another natural piece of this land that Quinn loved so much.  It left a bitter taste in his mouth.  He couldn't stand by and watch Otto pillage and mutilate the Utes' sacred territory, just as war had destroyed so much of the East.  He absolutely wouldn't let Otto do that on the backs of slaves.  Looking over the quarry, Quinn knew exactly what he had to do.  
  
********  
  
As he rode through the trees with a tin pail of blackberries, he tried to rehearse his excuse for the unexpected visit, should he run into Jonas.  Thankfully, his legal work for the ranch kept him busy and Quinn saw no sign of him, as he rode up to the cabin.  Frannie was outside playing under the apple tree, as Quinn dismounted Ford and walked up to the front door.  
  
*Is Mommy home?  
  
*Yeah, she's making cheese out back.  
  
*OK.  Can you keep a secret?  
  
Her big blue eyes lit up and she nodded her head.  
  
*Don't tell anyone, but I found this.  
  
He knelt down and handed her a brightly colored wrapped package.  Her round, little fingers untied the twine and inside the paper she found a brand new cloth rag doll, with bright black button eyes and red yarn hair.  She wore a blue calico dress and she had cloth black shoes and a small stitched mouth.  Frannie squealed with joy.   She threw her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear...  
  
*This is better than Christmas!  
  
Quinn hugged her back and said,  
  
*I wanted to give this to you for your birthday. Will you forgive me for giving it to you so late?  
  
*Of course!  
  
Frannie ran off to play with her doll and Quinn rounded the corner of the cabin in search of Carrie.  He found her with her dress sleeves rolled up, her work apron on, bent over straining the curds from the whey.  He stared at her creamy, white bare forearms, busy making cheese. She looked up and a small smile crossed her face.  
  
*What are you doing here?  
  
She salted the cheese curds and got out her wooden cheese hoop, and started filling it with the curds.  
  
*I found some good blackberries.  
  
Quinn lifted the pail to show her, Carrie gave him a knowing look.  
  
*You shouldn't have.. not blackberries.  
  
They both remembered the blackberry picking cover story for their afternoon trysts.  Carrie blushed slightly at the memories.  Quinn placed the pail on the back door step and confidently leaned on the door frame.  
  
*Anything out of Jonas?  
  
*No. Playing the good cop hasn't gotten me anywhere.  
  
Carrie grimaced slightly at the thought of it.  The last few nights she tried to tempt him in the barn at twilight, then she even surprised him at the office, when he was working late.  All her invitations were quickly rebuffed and Jonas had actually been appalled that Carrie even suggest they get naughty under his desk after hours.  He really did have no imagination.  
  
*Maybe I should play the bad cop.  
  
*No. Jonas is useless for information.  
_And other things_ , thought Carrie.  
  
*Do we know if the list is even in town?  Maybe it's in Denver at the main office.  
  
*I don't know. All I could get out of Jonas was that an exchange is going to happen this Friday, north of here, in Larkspur.  
  
*What kind of exchange?  
  
*I don't know.  Jonas wasn't invited, but I think Otto will be there.  
  
*Hmmm...  
  
*What Quinn?  
  
*Nothing. I got to go.  
  
She looked up into his face and something pleading was in his eyes.  Gently, barely over a whisper she said,  
  
*What is it really Quinn?  
  
Quinn nervously fidgeted with is hands.  He looked out over the forest and quietly said,  
  
*This has to stop Carrie, I just don't believe it anymore.  
  
*Believe what?  
  
*The damage we do, justifies protecting the railroad. What we are doing to the Ute's land, the slave labor in the quarry and on the ranch. I don't think protecting the railroads and the banks is enough of a cause for me anymore.  
  
Carrie set down her tub of cheese curds, surprise covered her face.  
  
*None of this will ever be perfect Quinn.  
  
*I just can't do it anymore.  
  
She was getting annoyed and frustrated now.  
  
*Why are you doing this?  
  
*Maybe because you need to hear it.  
  
Carrie rolled her eyes at him.  
  
*So now you are going to save everyone?  
  
*Every person deserves freedom Carrie.  
  
She raised an eyebrow.  
  
*Don't start with me Quinn.  
  
*What, don't you think the Ute people should be free?  
  
Carrie's voice was almost a shout when she exclaimed,  
  
*Don't f*ing tell me how to think. What I need is your help, not your moral conscience. And for your information,  I don't like how Otto is pushing out the Ute or using salves on his cattle ranch, but I can't change everything. What I need is my mineral rights leases back.  What I need is your help Quinn, not your god damn hand on the wagon break.  
  
In her exasperation, she spun around, away from him and accidentally dropped her cheese cloth full of curds onto the grass. She was so frustrated, she wanted to run away, away from all of this.  She turned back and he was walking away. Suddenly Carrie both hated him and yet at the same time didn't want him to leave. _Damn, she couldn't think of an excuse to make him stay_.  
  
*Quinn.  
  
*Yeah.  
  
*Never mind.  
  
As Quinn strode off, and turned the corner of the cabin, he yelled back,  
  
*Oh, Frannie has a new doll.  
  
*You are f*ing terrible.  
  
She yelled after him.  
  
She didn't see him smile, or catch him touching the gold ring in his vest pocket, but she did hear him ride off on Ford. Irritated and annoyed Carrie left her cheese hoop, half filled with curds and sat on the back door step, next to the blackberry pail. She reached over and tried a plump, dark purple one. They were as sweet as ever, but some how they were laced with bitter regret.  Sadly, time only moved in one direction, and they were really never going back.  
  
******  
  
Later that evening after the dinner dishes had been washed and the front door was open, letting in the evening cool breeze, Jonas turned to Carrie and casually mentioned,  
  
*Otto moved out more savages from the eastern pasture land.  
  
*What?  
  
*Yes.  The cattle need more watering springs during these summer months.  
  
*What about the Ute?  
  
*What about them?  
  
*What happened to them?  
  
*Those that resisted were put down.  
  
*Put down?  
  
Angry was rising in Carrie's voice.  Disgust filled the pit of her stomach.  
  
*They are uncivilized Carrie, their resistance is pointless.  
  
*How can you sit by and watch that?  
Carrie spit out.  
  
Jonas only rolled his eyes and went back to reading his newspaper.  Carrie was glad Frannie was outside playing because this was about to get ugly.  
  
*I can't believe you would allow such crimes to go on right under your nose.  
  
*Crimes? Don't be ridiculous Caroline, they basically live like wild animals.  
  
He was so patronizing, she wanted to slap him hard across the face.  
Jonas only looked exasperated at her and continued,  
*When is it ever going to end with you people?  
  
*Those are families out there and you let Otto slaughter them?  
  
*This is insane, what good will ever come from savages running free, disturbing the peace?  
  
*No, YOU are f*ing insane.  You would never allow this if they were white folks.  
  
*That's the whole point Carrie, they aren't white people!  
  
She couldn't hold back her anger any longer...  
*You are f*ing disgusting.  
  
*How can you live yourself Carrie?  
  
That was the last straw, she let me him have it with all the hurricane force winds of her manic side...  
  
*Live with myself?  How can _you_ live with yourself,  watching how Otto treats his slaves, yes, slaves on the ranch. Or the merciless killing going on in Indian villages, those are women and children! For what? For f*ing what? For better grazing and water for cows?  
  
Carrie stormed off to the barn.  Her head was a jumble of heat, anger, frustration and disgust.  _How did she ever get here?  How was she ever going to make this right?_   She sat down in the musty smelling hay and cried.  
  
*******  
  
Carrie knew something was up the moment she found a new pail of blackberries on the back door step, the next morning.  Just inside the pail was a note that read, "Walden 9 am".  
  
Carrie found him, as stated, behind the wheelwright shop, getting his wagon wheel repaired on his buggy. As she walked up, Mr. Walden went back into his shop to a hammer a new wooden spoke into the hub of the wheel.  Carrie causally moved closer and let her bonnet slid down her back, so the strings were around her throat.  She fingered Ford's worn leather harness carefully and pretended to talk about horses. Carefully she leaned closer to Quinn and in hushed tones whispered,   
  
*What's the big emergency?  
  
*Carrie, Javadi is helping Otto transport slaves in and out of Colorado.  
  
*Holy Sh*!  
  
*Friday is the next big slave trade in Larkspur, with Javadi, Otto and Haquani.  That's the time to steal the list and get your mineral contracts back.  You better believe they will have their paperwork in hand and a lot of f*ing gold with them.  
  
Carrie's eyes were wide with surprise and excitement.  
  
*Since when did we become Robin Hood?  
  
*There is no "we" in this Carrie. It's better I do a surgical extraction, get the paperwork out myself.  
  
*Are you crazy? You just said they will have tons of gold, meaning tons of security, the place will be full of trigger happy idiots.  
  
*Carrie, it's the only way.  
  
*You can't do this.  
  
*Astrid told me where...  
  
*You talked to Astrid about this?  
  
*Yeah, she was the one who discovered that the slave list and documents would be in Larkspur for the exchange. She thinks the fewer people involved the better. I told her....  
  
*You talked to Astrid about this before me?  
  
*Are you jealous?  
  
Quinn crossed this arms over this chest and leaned back slightly.  
  
*No.  
  
Carrie felt defensive and hurt. _Why did this bother her so much? Now wasn't the time to ponder on that._  
  
*OK, then....  
  
*How are you going to get to them? You going to blow everyone up with dynamite? Do you even have an escape plan? You and Astrid and her German quarter horses?  
  
*Carrie we have to go after them now, it's our only shot at getting Javidi, Haqqani and Otto all together, red handed in a slave trade.  First we get the evidence against them, then Lockhart can come in and clean up this f*ing mess.  
  
*Or you will get yourself killed.  
  
*No, I won't.  
  
*Bullsh*!  This is suicide.  
  
*Carrie...  
  
*I won't allow it.  
  
*Its better I do this alone Carrie.  
  
A muscle flexed in his jaw.  Carrie's eyes were full of fire.  It was difficult to keep their voices down, they were toe to toe on this one.  
  
*Carrie you were the one to tell me that the slave records were important and guess what, now it is.  
  
*Saul would never have allowed this.  
She spit out.  
  
Quinn was so frustrated and enraged, that behind the cover of his horse and buggy, he grabbed Carrie's shoulder and shook her.  
  
*For once in your life Carrie, you need to listen! Trust me on this.  
  
They were almost nose to nose.  
  
* You won't have any f*ing back up, if they find you, they will kill you.  
  
He put his hand beneath her elbow, but she drew it sharply back and slapped him hard across the face. Quinn winched, astonished as he wiped the blood from his mouth. He stepped back in surprise, but Carrie wasn't done yet,  
  
*I won't be able to help you Quinn, not Lockhart, not even Dar. You will be all on your own on this.  
  
*I always have been.  
  
That sudden truth shocked Carrie slightly and she leaned back on her heals. She realized yelling wasn't get her anywhere, so she changed tactics. She drew in a deep breath. She knew all the words by heart, calculated words to get him to move on this subject.  To stir up old guilt, and give him reasons to do it her way.  She may not know everything about life, but she knew this.  How to motivate him, how to relentlessly get her way.  In the end, he was hers and she took advantage of that.  She was fighting the only way she knew how, with his heart.  
She moved closer so that she could almost feel the heat from his torso, she gently laid her hand on his chest and looked into his blue eyes and quietly said,  
  
*Please don't do this alone. Please.....I .....Please, please Quinn don't make me beg.  
  
Quinn winced at her words, exasperated and worn down, he finally surrendered.  She knew how to play his heart.  
  
*Fine we'll take your whole f*ing posse at sunrise tomorrow.  Happy now?  
  
* It's for your own good Quinn.  
  
* Whatever Carrie, you're the boss.  
  
Maybe they were both too emotional to see the danger right in front of them.

 

 


	16. Maybe you need more whiskey

  
August 16, 1865  
  
The mountain air was still a little crisp as they met up at dawn with the posse.  Carrie had thrown together everyone she could think of, the more manpower the better.  In the grove of trees behind the school house she had collected Redmond, Max, Virgil and Danny. (Lockhart and Dar were pointless with a gun) As Carrie looked up from counting her rounds of ammunition, she instantly realized Quinn was late.  
  
*Where the hell is he Virgil?  
  
*He left last night.  
  
*Why the f* would he do that?  
She hissed back.  
  
*I'm guessing to do the extraction himself. To protect you.  
  
Carrie threw her hands up in disgust.  
  
*He will only get himself killed.  
  
*He thinks he can do this Carrie.  
  
*F*off.  
  
*Carrie, maybe it's for the best.  He doesn't want to see you get hurt, for Frannie's sake, maybe.....  
  
He reached to put her arm around her.  
  
*Don't Virgil.  
  
As the sun crept up into the sky, all the boys had to get "back to work" and everything had to appear normal by breakfast.  Protecting Quinn meant playing dumb, and carrying on without comment.  There was nothing left to do but wait. He had left without them and there was nothing she could do about it. Her head throbbed with worry. Her lone assassin, was out on another mission, for her, because of her.  The hours crept by.  She thought about reaching out to Astrid, but Carrie was concerned that, that may draw too much attention. Of course, she still didn't know his extraction plan.  _How the hell was he going to pull off this op?_   As night crept in, somewhere in her heart she knew he would return, return to her.  
  
_He always returned right?  He was an excellent tracker, he was f*ing raised by the Comanche. He survived The War, he survived being a sharpshooter, a pony express rider, surely he could survive this too. F* if he could deliver babies, he could manage to steal a few documents._  
  
At least that's what she told herself as she stared up at the cabin ceiling, praying he would come home soon.  
  
*******  
  
Three days later Redmond came riding up on his wagon to Jonas's little cabin.  His eyes were wide and all he had to say was...  
  
*Carrie hurry!  
  
He was white with terror and she knew immediately what it was about.  She dropped Frannie into Mira's arms and ran, ran to the wagon and willed the horses to fly, fly to him.  
  
As they rode into the town square, he was already tied down, shirtless on the whipping block.  (At least that was better than hanging from a tree.) Carrie's optimism was short lived, at the crack of Haqqani's whip, she fell over with shock.  Redmond pulled her back to her feet but she wasn't sure she could endure what she knew was coming next.  Her mind was spinning.... _"How could we have done this to him?"  "How could we have allowed this to happen?"_.  She had played all her cards, there are no more favors to call in. She warned him this could happen. His proud face was emotionless, he didn't indulge them in even a small gasp.  If this was the end, he was going to strong for them, for her.  
  
Carrie realized the man that risked his own life to end slavery, was now being treated like a runaway slave.  Carrie felt sick, this was her worse nightmare right in front of her. He was caught trying to protect her, to protect her mining rights, to give her financial freedom, to give her independence, to help her be the best of herself. This is what it had come down to, both of them hungering for redemption, grasping for meaning, but would they ever really find meaning without each other?  Wasn't this every epic story,  searching for, longing to bring back what had long been lost?  
  
Her stomach rolled, scenes over the years flashed before her eyes and something inside broke open, or broke free, she couldn't tell.  Her eyes were hot with tears, her heart pounded like a drum. She was now someone else's wife, mourning the one real love she ever knew. She felt her stomach turn into knots and she had to turn away as the whipping continued, he never made a sound.  It was so painful to watch, it was like the pain was permeating her soul, deep and disabling, her chest ached for him, she prayed that the torture would stop. Finally within the crowd a delicate hand took hers,  She looked up into Astrid's beautiful face and she knew she wasn't alone.  The Ice Queen herself, with the heart of gold proved compassion would win in the end. After what felt like an eternity he finally lost consciousness and was untied.  
  
*Go to him, he needs you.  
Astrid whispered.  
  
Max made it to him first.  As she helped drag his blood soaked body to the clinic, her mind flashed back to Saul dying in her arms and Quinn's efforts to save him. The past came back in pieces... suddenly she was 15 drowning in the creek, with her dress torn.  He was carving their initials in the oak tree and he was resetting her shoulder. She was 19 fighting with him about Fara, she was 21 and he was buying her calico for a blue maternity dress. She was holding newborn Frannie in a snowstorm,  he was giving her a white christening dress. He was running off to war and leaving behind two teacups and saucers. She was 23 and had him tied down in the old mill.  He was returning from the Union Army with "Great Expectations." They were running an op against Jonas, she was slapping him across the face about Haqqani, was this the f*ing end?  
  
As Max was running around the clinic collecting more bandages, whiskey and antiseptic, she looked down at Quinn and realized he was  her home. _Was she his home?  Why did he keep coming back?_   Maybe she already knew the truth. The room was spinning too fast and then everything went black.  
  
When Carrie opened her eyes again, she was laying on the floor and Max had smelling salts to her nose.  
  
*It's alright, careful now.  
  
She sat up and realized the sun had gone down. Across the room in the lamplight, she saw him in bed with his back wrapped in bandages. He was laying face down, motionless.  
  
*I had to give him a lot of whiskey for the pain Carrie, it's not pretty. I just sent Astrid home, to keep Otto occupied and ensure he doesn't come back to finish the job.  
  
In the warm light of the lamp and candles, she saw Dar asleep in the corner.  He was snoring slightly. As if he knew he was being watched, Dar woke up with a start.  
  
*How is he Max?  
  
*Not good.  We have to watch for infection.  
  
*I"ll stay Dar.  
  
Carrie cut in.  
  
Dar nodded, took his hat, and Carrie almost saw a tear in his eye has he walked out of the tiny clinic.  
  
She silently walked over and found Quinn pale, sweating, looking confused and more broken than she had ever seen him. The horror of witnessing him in such a state caused her to blurt out:

 

*Maybe he needs more whiskey for the pain Max?

She reached out to take his hand and moved closer to his face.

*Quinn, hey it's me Carrie.

His unfocused eyes fixed on her. His fuzzy brain trying to make sense of it.

*Hey.

*Hey.

*You OK?

*I'm OK.

This grimace gave him away.  
Her fingertips ran lightly across his damp forehead. Slowly he seemed to come back to her. His eyes became clear and more alert. Even so she couldn't hide her frustration or worry,

*You are NOT OK. How could you be so stupid and....

*Hey I got the slave list and your mineral rights certificates, so don't start with me.

Carrie eyes were wide with shock.

*What the f*?

*The papers are in my left boot.

She moved to the foot of bed and pulled off his left riding boot and out dropped a bundle of papers.  Tears filled her eyes. She held the papers in her hands, they were blood splattered, but real. She was so mad and so proud all at the same time.

*Was it worth it? Really?

*This is freedom Carrie, for those families Otto owns and it's freedom for you.

Carrie bit her lip nervously, she was so full of anxiety, worry and guilt.  He read her face like a book.

*Hey, this isn't your fault, I chose this.

*Why would go to such lengths?

He looked at her with knowing eyes.

* See Carrie..... it was never over..... not for me at least.

Wow, that packed a punch. Carrie didn't know what to say. She looked at her hands trying to keep back the tears.  
He took her hand, squeezed it and tilted his head to see her better.

* Where is Frannie?

* With Mira.

He took a deep, ragged breath, obviously trying to suppress the pain.

* You know, she is....

Carrie finished the sentence for him,

*...the best thing we ever did together.

Quinn smiled a real genuine smile. Frannie kept taking them back, back to the one day they were a family. It was the one event that kept haunting them, kept nagging them with hope and longing.

*Well, I would say you did all the work.

*Pushing or screaming?

It hurt too much for Quinn to laugh but still his smile laughed for him. His eyes focued on the lines on her face, evidence of the years and sorrows that had passed.

*What do really want Carrie?

*Like for real?

*For real, in your real life.

She knew what he meant.

*Well, to build and run my own jailhouse. I'd be fearless, ruthless and execute justice.

*Be your own sheriff.

*Yes, with my own posse.

*Big dreams.

With his weathered hands in hers, he caressed her tiny hand carefully. He could only admire her strength and tenacity.

*You know Quinn, every time you left, I never stopped thinking about you. Everywhere I went I was looking for you, hoping to see you again.

*Carrie, I was always coming back.

*Really?

*Where else would I go?

There was truth, unashamed and real, more transparent than ever.  She saw adoration in his eyes and tenderness in his voice. She smiled, her eyes softened, she couldn't stop the single tear from rolling down her cheek.  All those old walls had turned to rubble.

*What do you want Quinn?

He gently smiled at the thought of it, then he was as honest as he'd ever been.

*To go home. To be home. With a dozen babies,  
He said with a twinkle in his eye.  
*and to never miss another one of Frannie's birthdays.

It was a wish that was packed with so much meaning and implication. So much longing.  

For a moment that was almost her wish too. Quinn intensely stared into her eyes.. with a whisper he asked,

*Stay tonight... please.

*Yes, yes of course.

She kissed his hand and moved to lay down next to him, careful not to touch his back. Only their hands and foreheads touching her long skirt cascaded off the edge of the small bed.  She watched as her presence and the whiskey started to take effect and his eyes slowly closed.  His whole face relaxed and he melted into the pillow.  He drifted off into sea of promise and guarded hope.

One day, she would make this right, but tonight, all she had to give was her presence. They both knew that for one night, that was enough.

 

 


	17. In the end, it begins again

 

The night was over and the sky was turning gold as the sun began to rise.  Carrie didn't know what today would bring, but her prayers all night were that this wasn't the end, but instead the beginning.  It reminded her of the last time, they spent the night together, in each others arms, with newborn Frannie tucked against her chest.  Maybe this was Quinn's new birth.  She had spent the night, her hand pressed into his, listening to his breathing, sharing his pillow. She prayed for the strength to do what had to come next.   Max came in and checked Quinn's rising temperature and looked over his ashen complexion.  Carrie moved off the bed and tried unsuccessfully to wake him.  Panic filled her soul.  
  
*Carrie his infection is only getting worse.  There is nothing more I can do.  
  
*Maybe we could....  
  
*He's dying Carrie!  
  
*All I want is to get Quinn home.  Maybe there is more they can do for him.  
  
Max nodded in understatement.  
*OK.  
  
He grabbed his overcoat and Max ran out back, mounted up on Van and rode West.  
  
Carrie moved back to Quinn's bedside.  She took his hand, and pressed her face into his neck, then she whispered into his ear....  
  
*Quinn, Quinn, it's me, Carrie.  Listen I'm trying to get you home, but remember whatever happens ..... I'm here....waiting for you... always.  
  
Her voice broke and her tears ran down his neck. She wanted those last moments to be frozen in time. _How much she wished she could erase the past and start again._ But time doesn't stand still, and she soon heard horses at the back door.  
  
She walked out the back of Max's tiny clinic and was met with Khans' still face, only the feathers in his head dress moved in the early morning breeze.  
  
*All I want is to get Quinn home, will you do that for me?  He needs you.  
  
Khan nodded.  The proud Chief ducked inside and reemerged carrying out an unconscious Quinn.  Wrapped in a buffalo blanket,  the two silently rode off.  Tears started streaming down Carrie's face.  For the first time, she finally realized the cost of loving someone.  _How much did he pay for her freedom? The answer was everything he had. He did so willing._  
  
His ever expansive love continued to overwhelm her. She couldn't stomach the thought that this could be the end.  A warm arm moved around her shoulders, she curled into Max's embrace and she quietly sobbed. He understood the depth of her suffering and those dark secrets no one else knew.  They both knew what it was to lose someone they loved.  
  
As the sun got higher in the sky she rode to Judge Lockhart's to deliver the slave records as evidence against the ranch. She stopped at the county clerk to record her mineral rights certificate.  When the sun was high in the sky Carrie finally returned to the cabin and to Jonas. There was nothing to say, and they never spoke of that night Carrie spent in Max's clinic and in Quinn's bed.  They didn't talk much at all, there was nothing left to share.  
  
Externally, life continued on in town and around their cabin, but inside Carrie knew there was no going back.  She stopped wearing hoop skirts, and she stopping trying to make fluffy biscuits. Her feelings of suffocation were evaporating, she knew hope was on the horizon, a sense of possibility was right around the corner.  She had more resolve and more determination, her focus was to be strong, strong for him.  Fall turned to winter, winter into spring.  
  
May 19, 1867  
  
As the poppies filled the Western slopes of the Rockies, the hillsides were covered with purple lupines and red paintbrushes. Spring had finally come and the snow was gone for good. Carrie walked hand in hand with Frannie into the general store.  Frannie was looking at the red and white ribbon candy, while Carrie priced cornmeal, flour and salt pork. She was inspecting a barrel of molasses, when Virgil caught her eye. She moved over to the tall worn, wooden counter and Virgil quietly slipped a letter into Carrie's basket, behind a brown wrapped package of baking soda. Her eyes were wide, as she grabbed a piece of candy from the candy jar and Frannie's hand. She told Virgil to put it on their account, as they rushed out the door.  She gave a joyful Frannie the candy and walked as fast as possible to the trees behind the school house. She torn open the letter to read those precious few words..  
  
 ~The tea set is complete ~ and an address she had never seen before.  
  
Her heart skipped a beat and hurried with Frannie home, to get her gun.  
  
Now you may think this is where everything ends happily ever after.  Well, not quite. You see while Carrie was rushing to get her rifle, Otto was in Denver, Auraria specifically, meeting with editor of the Rocky Mountain News to prepare his smear campaign against Lockhart over slave trading.  The two men, deep in conversation never saw it coming, despite warnings by Araphoe local Indians. Otto was sitting in the second story office when Cherry Creek right outside the window, turned into a grey, brown wall of water. A wild deluge of water came down with such appalling force, that nothing was left in it's wake.  The flash flood that day wiped out the past and liberated Astrid. She of course, found comfort in the kindness of another. The tongues in town were filled with gossip, when one Sunday Astrid walked down the aisle to marry Dr. Max.  Together they granted freedom to all of Otto's slaves and negotiated long term peace with the Chief Khan.  
  
The railroad finally did come to Colorado City and Denver the following year. After the railway was complete Dar moved back to New York City and he joined the Bloomingdale brothers and began selling hoop skirts and European men's clothing at the East Side Bazaar.  Lockhart meanwhile never left Colorado.  He stayed to continue to advocate for Indian rights and he watched Colorado officially become a state in 1876. Lockhart helped to run the mining industry in central Colorado.  Even after the gold veins dried up, his investments in successful lead, zinc and cooper mines flourished for the next 80 years.  
  
As for the town folks, they grieved with Jonas a week later, in the church graveyard as they placed two new tombstones next to Saul's. Engraved in the simple stones, they read " Caroline Hollander age 24 loving wife and mother" and  "Francine Hollander age 3 gone too soon".   Their blood soaked dresses were found out in the forest with panther tracks surrounding them.  Their bodies were never found.  In the end, Jonas moved back East and their cabin was abandoned.  Yet, no one ever noticed the fresh dug soil next to an old oak tree by the creek, nor the books, the two china teacups and baby picture missing from Carrie's little wooden Swedish keepsake box.  
  
A month later Carrie and Frannie stepped off the train.  Carrie was wearing that same navy blue dress with tiny rosebuds scattered over it.  Both she and Frannie were in silk stocking and side button boots, Frannie was wearing a new blue sunbonnet. Their faces were shining, as together they gathered their little bit of luggage and walked off the platform of the train station, overhead the sign read "Monterey". Looking down the road she saw the Pacific Ocean on one side and a green and white gabled two story home on the shore.  In the front yard the laundry was out drying and on the clothesline a red and white checked dishtowel was blowing in the breeze.  She scooped up Frannie, her soft little cheek pressed against her own and ran.... finally running home.  
  
This was what it was all about, coming home.  It was what every Indian mother wanted for her children, it was what every emancipated slave longed for, a safe place to call home.  It was that haunting dream at night calling them home. 

He went out and met them at the front gate. He wrapped them up in an embrace, a hug to end all hugs. His hands were in her hair and he kissed her with all the longing of the past behind them and all the future hope in front of them. After so many missed opportunities, after so many heartbreaking good-byes, after all times she said "no", it was on the coastline of the Pacific Ocean, she finally said "yes" and it erased every other farewell. This was their real life. It was the gold ring that finally left his vest pocket and was slipped onto her finger 9 years after a plunge into the creek.

 

This was home.

********

The sun was just rising in early January, the sea gulls were squawking as the morning had begun.  Fisherman were at the docks unloading their morning catch.  She liked the salty smell of the air and the sound of water gently lapping up against pillars of the wharf. On the veranda, Carrie was wrapped up in her long muslin nightgown and a warm quilt.  She sat on the porch swing, wondering how she ever got here.  She heard Frannie's pony Hope, whining in the stables behind the house.   The sound of the gentle surf was broken by the kitchen screen door squeak and another warm quilt covered body next to her.  He handed her a mug of coffee and silently they studied the ocean together.  No words were needed.  
Carrie exhaled loudly.

*You should get more rest, you look worn out.

*Wow, way to make a lady feel good.

*No, I'm serious,  I'm worried about you... it's a lot of work...

*What?

*You know....

Quinn raises an eyebrow.

*Just come out and say it.  
_  
Why was she so testy in the morning?_ She hated being short with him, but her patience seemed to have evaporated recently.

*OK, Carrie, I know.

*You don't know anything.

*You don't think I could figure it out?

She was really getting agitated now.  She turned and faced him, full of fury.  
*F* off Quinn.

*Carrie,

He moved his hand to reach out to her, but she slapped it away.  
*Don't touch me.

He left it alone and tried a different tactic.  
*Frannie will be up soon, why I don't take her to church and you can go back to bed.

*I don't need a nap.

*Yes, you do.

*Don't tell me what I need.

*Carrie, fine..  
Quinn was exasperated now.  He had nothing left but to tell her the truth, he set his coffee mug on the porch and turned to her,

*It's takes a lot energy to grow a baby.  
Fine he said it, it was out there.

*Well I'm not.

Quinn only smiled.  He reached over and tenderly caressed her soft, slightly fluffy, belly.

*Your body tells me otherwise Carrie.

*Maybe I'm just eating too much pie.

Quinn moved his hand deeper under her quilt, running it up just under her breasts.

*No Carrie, these were the dead giveaway..

He gently ran his hand over one swollen, expanding breast and he felt goosebumps rising on her skin.  
_F*ing women whisperer,_  thought Carrie.

*You're going to need a bigger corset.

His touch had her undone and a moment later she was on his lap, straddling him, with her quilt enveloping them both.

*When did you know?

She thought she had hidden some of her morning gagging and random puking pretty well.

*As soon as you mindlessly started eating all the pickles in the house and yelling at me for how I was chopping wood, or starting the fire or.... mostly it was just you yelling at me all the time.

A slight smile crossed her face, then she thought a moment.

*Do you think we will love this baby...

*As much as Frannie?

*Yeah.

*I think love multiples Carrie, not divides.

*But what if you love this new one more.. because..

*Carrie, Frannie has always been mine and I'm so proud of her.  I couldn't love...

*Your own baby more?

*No.

A smile crept over his face, his dimple appeared,  his shining eyes looking down at her. He gently brushed away a strand of hair from her face.

*Quinn, when were you going to tell me, you knew?

*When you were ready.

_Always patiently waiting wasn't he?_

*Don't you get tired of waiting for me?

Implying something else entirely.

*None of this, would mean half as much Carrie, if you didn't _want_ this, if you didn't _choose_ this.  
He waved his hand towards the house.

He made his choice a long time ago, now Carrie had finally made hers.  She realized that now.  She relaxed, and wrapped her arms around him, leaning into his chest.

*We should have done this along time ago Quinn.

*You think? Who was the one asking you to run away f*ing YEARS ago?

*Yeah, yeah.

*I was only going to ask you twice, but I'm glad the third time, you chose for both of us.

She squeezed him closer. _F* that was a scary time_. The memory of him riding off with Khan made her shiver. She tried to change the subject,

*If this a California winter, then we should have come here decades ago!

They laughed a little together.

*Come back to bed, get some rest.

*Are you going to smoother me this whole time?

*Yes, and the next dozen times you are in the family way.

He couldn't help but grin. He was going to get her back in bed one way or another.  
She rolled her eyes, he delicately started to unbutton the tiny mother of pearl buttons on her dressing gown, ever so slowly.  
_Always patient._  
He was gently breathing on her neck, and Carrie couldn't take it. In a flash she was kissing him, tugging at his undershirt and pinning him roughly against the porch swing. She ran her hands under his shirt and across his broad smooth chest setting him on fire and before she could stop him, he picked her up, quilts and all and headed inside.  Now, Quinn would have told you they headed upstairs to their brass bed and it was tender and sweet, but Carrie would have been more honest.  She didn't want to bother going upstairs, so in the pantry, she pinned him up against the flour barrel.  He responded by lifting her up on a sturdy shelf and together among the butter churn and the crock full of pickled beets, they reminded each other that life was too short not to fully enjoy the moment. By giving each other the best of themselves, they were so much more dynamic and powerful, than they ever could have been apart.  
Flushed, sweaty and glowing, the thought crossed her mind.  
_Maybe at this rate, we will have a dozen kids_ , .... but that also may have been the hormones talking.

 

2016

Carrie and Quinn were able to live long enough to watch the canning industry explode down the street on Cannery Row. They watched canned tuna fish became a staple in American life. Frannie grew up telling her younger siblings about shoot outs and stagecoach runs.  Frannie told stories of Daddy meeting Harriott Tubman and being a sharpshooter under General Grant.  The children never completely knew of Quinn's work with the Pinkerton Agency, it was safer that way.  He continued to do some espionage work on the side, but nothing that took him away from home for more than a day.

Carrie took pride in fact that Quinn delivered all of her babies and he secretly was quite proud of that fact too. They had a son named after Quinn's beloved David Estes, they had a daughter named after Maggie, they had another son named after Captain James Stuart, the leader of his sharpshooter regiment. Next came a little dark haired, baby boy named Saul, and their last little baby girl was named Harriott.  No one ever commented that Frannie was their only redhead, maybe because she was such a Daddy's girl, or the fact that Quinn seemed to enjoy her birthday more than anyone else. Even when they became more fragile in old age, Carrie and Quinn always traveled up to San Francisco to celebrate with Frannie for her birthday. When Frannie questioned them about traveling in the winter to see her, their old stubbornness surfaced and she knew better than to fight them on it. Carrie only commented,

*Winters in San Francisco are nothing like Rocky Mountain winters.  We are quite capable Frannie, your Father wouldn't have it any other way.  If he was able live through the long winters on the Great Plains in a tee pee, he can take the train up here and fight the fog.

Carrie and Quinn's legacy grew and grew.  Their mineral rights lease continued to supply extra income and funded many a college education for their children and grandchildren. Carrie's posse brought peace to Monterey and allowed the fishing community to flourish.  Her security forces and strong judicial influence planted the seeds for a future military base.  Late in life, from their veranda they watched Fort Orde being built.  Monterey became hub for the Navy, fishing, commence, the arts and education.

The military called some of their grandchildren and Quinn's legacy of languages continued. His grandchildren would use their Native American language abilities to decrypt tactical messages in World War I and World War II. Two grandsons served along side the British with the Second Battle of the Sommes in 1918.  Later they were in the Battle of the Argonne Forest in the last days of World War I. Within 72 hours of deploying the bi-lingual Native American code talkers, the battle turned and the Germans were in full retreat.

No doubt Quinn would have been proud of their work in World War II. A new generation of bi-lingual Comanche great grandchildren were two of the fourteen Comanche code talkers that stormed the Utah Beach at Normandy .

Another family member was deployed to the Pacific where he was assigned to the 5th Marine Division.  His team of code talkers and their excellent code ciphering was credited for allowing the Marines to take Iwo Jima.

These great grandchildren came home from the war to teach at the Military Intelligence Service Language School when it moved to the Presidio at Fort Orde. During the Cold War, it became the Defense Language Institute and today under the Department of Defense, it is the premier institute for US language acquisition and is heavily used in the intelligence world.  A great, great granddaughter now works for the State Department, another is stationed doing covert intelligence work in Lebanon.

Today one of Frannie's a great granddaughters works at the Monterey Bay Aquarium, just two blocks from Carrie and Quinn's original gabled home.  I like to think that Carrie and Quinn would enjoy the 4th of July community picnic that still happens every year in the historic town center of Monterey.  There you can still see her old Monterey jail standing next to the courthouse, used for over a 100 years, no one ever escaped it's walls.  It's legacy would make Carrie proud.

Currently on the grounds of Colorado College, is a lush Monument Valley Park, next to the old Monument Creek. If you know where to look, there still stands a very old oak tree with their teenage initials etched into it.

Beyond even the western states, beyond time and wars and years gone by, there is apart of them that remains true.  It is in Washington DC, not far from where Quinn stopped rebel forces from invading the Capital.  It's in a bank vault, in the back.  Within the vault is an old family safe deposit box. The mental box only continues a few, but precious items.  The contents include a small set of yellow, aged, blood splattered papers for a Colorado mineral claim. The other item represents a lasting memory, or a collection of memories that lives on. It's a simple gold wedding ring and for those who know the story behind it, understand that ring traveled thousands of miles and years and through a war, to eventually rest on Carrie's hand for the rest of her life. They know _this_ story and it was passed down through the generations, to remind them, that _this_  is how the West was really won.  They won it together, for each other.

All these years later, that worn gold ring still bears this beautiful, haunting inscription,

"Yours for always now, Quinn".

 

 

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical notes: There really is a beautiful green and white historic gabled house that is down the street from the Monterey Bay Aquarium. Colorado College is a private school, next to the historic Old Colorado City, just outside of Colorado Springs, which has several beautiful parks. The historic Monterey Jail was used til 1950 and it's strong walls never allowed a single prisoner to escape for over 100 years. (These and many more are real places you can see yourself on Google maps.) Most dates and events were as accurate as I could make them in the context of the story. Several years ago my family spent the 4th of July in historic Monterey and it seemed like the perfect place to end. Monterey's own history is a great back story for the seeds of the US military, naval forces, intelligence training, and language acquisition, plus the historical home of canned sardines and tuna! Thank you readers for all your comments and support! All my hugs, I never could have done this without your encouragement. This is for you, you are the best!


End file.
